Tears, an Empty City, and a New Kingdom

I finished Jeremiah and hit Lamentations today.  To say that my time reading scripture is discouraging is an understatement.  With this chronological reading plan, I am immersed in the story of Israel's downfall.  I have been for weeks and weeks.  It makes it so tough to read the scripture.  This reading plan needs to come with some anti-depressants or something.

But, as I read it, I'm beginning to realize on a small scale, what a heartbreak it was for the people to lose their land, their place.  Everything was tied up in it.  Even in the Scriptures, the writers are focused on getting back to the land.  "Stop sinning so that we can go home" is the cry of the authors.  They want to be back in Israel, in Jerusalem, so desperately.  The city of Jerusalem has a personality, it cries, it moans, it misses it's people.  The personification of the city runs deep in their understanding.  It's something I have trouble relating to.

But it causes me to wonder what it is that I am that attached to?  It's not the United States for me, or my house, or city.  But my comfort would be something close.  I'll follow, as long as it isn't an inconvenience.  Or my job.  I'm good with following God, unless he asks me to be homeless and not be a pastor anymore.  Or my schedule.  When God wants to obliterate my schedule, I get a little sideways with Him.

So, while I obsess over different things, I still obsess.  I allow things to come between me and God, to get in the way, to distract me.  They become my Jerusalem, my kingdom.

So, again, I fall back on this prayer:

Our Father, who is in heaven,
Holy is your name,
Your Kingdom come
Your Will be done
On earth, like it's done in Heaven.
Give me today what I need,
And forgive me for all of my sins,
And I forgive those who have sinned against me.
Don't lead me into temptation
But deliver me from evil.

His kingdom.  Here.  Today.  Not my Jerusalem.  His kingdom.

Standing in the Middle of a Hurricane of Grace

Yesterday I spoke in the main service as we ended up our iPray series. I got to speak on the Lord's Prayer in Matthew 6. One of the points I continue to work through, even after the sermon is done, is the plurality of the prayer. What I mean is, it's a community prayer (OUR Father...give US...forgive US...etc.).

As I was prepping the message, and praying, I got to thinking about some of Jesus' other teachings. "Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there". Why is two or three better than one? When Jesus goes on the mountain for the transfiguration, He takes three with Him. When He goes to Gethsemane to pray, He takes all the disciples, but then He calls three further on. Over and over, He points to this idea of two or three in prayer. Why?

I think it goes back to the idea of a robust Trinity (a phrase I stole from LeRon Shultz, a seminary prof of mine.) God exists forever as a three in one community. Father loves and serves the Son and Spirit, Son loves and serves Father and Spirit, and Spirit loves and serves Father and Son. Forever. Always has. Always will. It's the definition of what it means to be alive.

So when Jesus prays that we will be one they way He, the Father, and the Spirit are One, it means much more than we think. When He tells us that His death forgives us for our sins, but His resurrection leads to a new life, He means it. We get invited to live inside of this eternal, ridiculously beautiful, frighteningly powerful love relationship the Three have. We get placed right in the middle of it and it flows in and through us, all because of the resurrection.

So is it possible that when we pray with one or two others, that at that point we are most like God? Could it be that when we abandon our selfish, autonomous fears and open our lives up to others, we most become like Jesus? Is it that in that moment, we are truly, at our best, Christians?

It's something to think about. I surely am.

If you'd like to hear the sermon, you can find it here.

I'd love to know what you think.