Two Stories

For the past couple months we've been involved in a 40 day commitment to scripture reading and prayer. It has been truly amazing. Rachel and I have talked about our reading together almost daily - and I have loved that. Chris, Heidi, Rachel and I have sent countless emails back and forth - this process of being transformed by scripture together has had the added impact of deepening our friendship.

We've had some great conversations on Sundays with our worshiping community and I have been blown away by the ways in which God has clearly answered our prayers for miracles and for the request of Luke 10:2 ("beg the Lord of the Harvest to send out workers...") Our suspicion about that verse is that its answer comes by way of connection with people "from the harvest." The stories of conversations that have fallen into our laps with people who don't yet believe, or perhaps want to believe but are skeptical of Christians... There's no denying what's been taking place in the lives of those who threw themselves into this relatively small commitment.

Today is the last Sunday during our 40 days - we conclude on Tuesday. Our time has been so powerful that the Chappotins, Rachel and I have decided to do this again with a new set of readings during Lent.

It wasn't easy to read 5 chapters of scripture a day, six days/week but it was a worthwhile challenge. I don't think any of us made our exact goal every day - and that isn't the point. The point was to immerse ourselves in God's Word regularly, and that was/is a worthwhile goal.

So, as we draw this time to a close with the reading of the gospel of John (we read 1-10 on Fri-Sat and will read the 2nd half Mon-Tues), I'd like to post a short section from a sermon I preached in August of 2007 in Mandeville. I did a series of lessons on the life of Jesus and many of the sermons came from John's gospel. This one, which focuses on the stories of Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman at the well in John 3 and 4 respectively, was inspired in part by Eugene Peterson's, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places (great book). If you've read it, you should notice that this section I'm including draws very heavily from the book.

I've been greatly blessed by this time of commitment to Scripture and Prayer in community - thank you to all who've participated with us, both locally and from a distance. May God continue to bless us, transform us and reveal miracles through his Word at work in our lives.

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...But here’s the interesting thing about these two stories. They are incredibly accessible. Nicodemus was a scholar and minister – but that isn’t what made him able to believe…in fact, he seemed much more confused than the Samaritan woman had been! The metaphors are incredibly common – birth and water.

The first story is about a man; the second about a woman. There is no preferred gender in the Christian life.

The first story takes place in the city, the second on the outskirts of a small town. Geography has no bearing on perception or attitude.

Nicodemus is a respectable member of a strictly orthodox sect of the Pharisees; the woman is a disreputable member of the despised Samaritans. Racial background, religious identity, and moral track record are neither here nor there in matters of spirituality.

The man is named; the woman unnamed. Reputation and standing in the community are not important.

Nicodemus opens their conversation with a spiritual comment; the woman allows Jesus to kick things off with a simple question of drawing water. It doesn’t seem to matter who gets things started, Jesus or us, or whether the subject matter is earthly or heavenly.

In both stories there is risk – Nicodemus risks his reputation meeting Jesus, Jesus risks his by speaking to this female Samaritan. So…

A man and a woman

City and country

An insider and an outsider

A professional and a layperson

A respectable man and a disreputable woman

An orthodox and a heretic

One who takes the initiative; one who lets it be taken

On named, the other anonymous

Human reputation at risk; divine reputation at risk

In both stories Jesus is the central character. Everything that happens to bring life has Jesus working in the center of it – Jesus is more active than any one of us; it is Jesus who provides the energy. And this is what life in the Kingdom is about. It is about God. It is about Jesus. It is not about elitism. It is not about looking right, smelling right or dressing right. It is Jesus himself that is at work to introduce everyone to this kingdom.

Here's Water, What Hinders You?

You probably know the old saying, “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t drown it.”

I’m taking that more seriously these days.

The last few months have been full of changes for us, the Chappotins and Christ Journey. Some have been great and exciting, others have been sad and painful, but all have had a transformative impact. Many realizations about church and leadership have come into greater focus and we’re realizing how important it is to have this clarity of vision.

Those who’ve talked to me much lately will probably know that I’ve been reading Neil Cole’s books - first Organic Church, now Organic Leadership and this past weekend I picked up Church 3.0. I’ve never found a writer that is as consistently inspiring and frustrating in the span of a single page. I really think some of his views are unfair and naive (particularly when it comes to the history laid down in scripture of the Holy Spirit choosing to work through people to teach other people), but so much of his critique is incisive and challenging.

Yesterday, I read about a conversation he had with a well established evangelical pastor; one who’d been leading his present church for 20 years - an impressive feat in today’s culture. (Organic Leadership, 76-77.)

The pastor was arguing for more rigorous scholarly expectations and review in the ordination process (Cole seems opposed to pretty much any scholarly expectation whatsoever). The pastor said that each candidate for ordination should be scrutinized by a panel of ordained pastors and seminary professors and said that average church-goers without theological training would lack the astuteness to determine readiness.

I see where this guy is coming from, I’ve been witness to too many congregational leadership selection processes. People are seen as fit for leadership because of their popularity, often having earned their fame in the local community for business or political feats. Many are assumed to be good leaders because they have been successful as businessMEN, doctors or lawyers. Often there is little attention paid to the leader’s gifting and calling to teach others the way of Christ - or even teach Bible class. Sometimes people are called to leadership with very little knowledge of Scripture but with great understanding of “how things work” in the business world. Then we mourn that our churches function more like a cold-hearted business - driven by the bottom-line - than like the Body of the Risen Christ. What did we think was going to happen?

That doesn’t mean that our leadership needs to be all seminary trained folks chosen by seminary trained folks. That kind of clergy elitism is just as contrary to the Body of Christ image. I have indeed known both men and women with no formal theological education who show a deep love, knowledge and application of the scriptures - my father-in-law is one such leader. I trust his judgement of scripture and how to live it out more than pretty much any professor’s.

So, I was conflicted in how to respond to this pastor. Then Neil Cole asked a quick volley of questions that stopped me in my tracks.

“So, you’ve been teaching the same people every week for 20 years (over a thousand sermons), and they do not know enough of the Bible to discern sound doctrine? What’s wrong with your teaching?...If 20 years is not enough, how many more years of your teaching do you think it will take before they would be able to tell the difference between good teaching and bad?”

What’s wrong indeed! I doubt that there’s anything wrong with this guy’s preaching in the sense that we normally mean - I don’t know who it is, but the overall tone of the chapter suggested that this is a well-known and well-respected guy.

But it made me think of people I’ve known - some of whom sit in the same bible class and listen to the preacher faithfully week after week for decades on end. They sit in those classes every year and yet don’t feel they are ready to teach others even the basics of faith. If a friend asks them about Jesus, they’ll be happy to set up a coffee conversation between that friend and their minister...and woe to the preacher that isn’t able to drop everything and talk to their friend.

Even someone who’s been a Christian for only a few years - like the apostles were when the Holy Spirit descended at Pentecost...

I still believe there is a need for theological education. There is a 2000 year gap between us and the most recent of Biblical books - God may not have changed (which isn’t as universally true as we might think, but that’s another post) but the cultures of humanity certainly have. There is a need for some to put in the extra effort to learn about and help their community navigate those differences.

There is also value in having guides along the journey who have dedicated themselves to learning pray so that they can empower and support others to pray- some of these guides will be trained in seminary, others will be trained in the midst of a praying community (think of the various teachers that Timothy had - The Holy Spirit through the laying on of hands by the elders - 1 Tim 4:14; Timothy’s own mother and grandmother...don’t think for a second that they weren’t important teachers - 2 Tim 1:5; and of course, Paul - 2 Tim 1:13).

We’ve just finished a reading Acts where we encountered Paul on his missionary journeys. Sometimes he stayed in a place for a few days, sometimes longer (I love the divine protection that allowed him to stay in a hostile Corinth for a year and a half - Acts 18).

But as we read through the rest of the New Testament we’ll see that after these short stays a church typically grew up in that place - occasionally led by someone that Paul sent to the them or left with them (like Timothy), sometimes led by another who came after Paul (like Apollos) but often they led together as the community who received the good news. None of these people had known about Jesus for very long - and none had even a single copy of the New Testament...there weren’t any yet. And yet we read amazing stories of faith and growth.

I recently heard that the average church-goer in America has more training and exposure to scripture than many bishops in parts of Africa. So, how much longer do you need to listen to teaching before you are ready to lead and teach others?

The truth is, I’ve spent more time than makes sense trying to drown the horse. Here’s water, what hinders you? When you get ready to drink I think you’ll find the water cool and satisfying. In the meantime, there are other horses that haven’t found the trough yet, I’m gonna go try to find them.

You can too.

If you’ve had a drink of this water, you’re ready for the trip. Stop looking at the water. Get a drink and let's go.

Helping The Church Be The Church: Reflections on New Monasticism Part II

School(s) For Conversion: 12 Marks of a New Monasticism edited by The Rutba House

This book is a compilation of essays on the “12 marks” which serve as guiding principles for many new monastic communities. The introduction, written by Jonathan R. Wilson addresses issues which I believe are essential for each of our three groups to consider.

Wilson claims that, in light of the failure of the enlightenment project to fulfill its lofty promises to bring about greater peace and prosperity through scientific, technological and logical development, New Monasticism is faced with the great temptation to focus on self-preservation. This temptation must be faced head on by NM communities, missional monastic church plantings and the established church. We must balance the temptation to be driven by the bottom line and the other extreme of understanding our existence merely for the sake of the world. But how?

Wilson urges the church to remember its eschatological identity; we live in anticipation of the reign of God, practicing the Kingdom ethos now and praying for its arrival in fullness. Regardless of the expression or form the church takes, if it forgets its mission to join with God in the ministry of reconciliation; if it functions and makes decisions solely out of internal self-interest or external activism; if it is driven by the bottom line, perhaps it has forgotten what it means to be church in the first place. This is not condemnation, it is exhortation. Church, remember your first love!

For New Monastic Communities: I spoke recently to students in a graduate church planting class. At one point someone asked me what difficult and painful lessons we’ve learned. I replied, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a Christian to reimagine the life of faith as something beyond attendance.” This realization has been costly, saddening and thoroughly exhausting. And yet, a wise friend encouraged me to remember how Jesus concluded his similar statement: “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

For disciples forming a new monastic community, it is vital to pray for just such a transformation. Like Peter’s conversion when he visited the household of Cornelius in Acts 10, we must recognize that it is not only the uninitiated who need to be evangelized. We are all in need of the good news breaking in more fully.

Mark #6 discusses the value of being intentionally formed in the way of Christ and the Rule of the community along the lines of the old novitiate. Author David Janzen notes that we often read Jesus telling people that in order to follow him they will have to leave some things behind. He points out that this “renunciation itself is not holiness, but it creates a necessary space where the holiness of God can dwell and can reorder the disciples’ lives.” We’re like the wealthy city dweller preparing to hike up a mountain with 6 suitcases, 2 backpacks and a computer bag. We just can’t carry it all where we’re going. Even if we could, we soon we realize that most of it doesn’t make sense in the new landscape anyway.

Like the rich young ruler, we will be called to give up things which seem precious to us so that we can take hold of that which has value beyond our ability to imagine. There is absolutely no substitute for considering this cost. Having a mature guide(s) capable of listening with novices is extremely valuable.

Let new monastic communities be warned, skipping or cheapening the process of discernment will result in pain and frustration for novice and community alike. More than a mere conversation, there needs to be a season where an individual is dedicated to prayer and service alongside the community; a chance to practice the community’s Rule as a context for discerning call and commitment.

Janzen is clear to point out that this call to a novitiate process with the assistance of a spiritual director must not become a cultic community isolated from the larger church - to do so is idolatrous and will lead to disaster. A proper connection to the historic church, the present church and the guidance of the Holy Spirit in the midst of the local community can lead to a vibrant life of discipleship.

For Missional Monastic Church Planting: Leah (not her real name) is a single mom raising her 4 year-old daughter and 10 year old nephew. She is attempting to do so on the meager earnings available in food service and it is increasingly difficult. Leah is distrustful of the church, but as she spends time with our family, extending and receiving hospitality has begun to reveal the goodness of the gospel in her life.

Showing hospitality to our friends is not good enough. When it comes to the cultivation of missional monastic churches among non-Christians, we are finding great wisdom in this mark of showing hospitality to the stranger. It is inconvenient and sometimes a bit terrifying to invite people we hardly know into our homes and our lives and to also enter willingly into theirs, but this is essential.

Maria Russell Kenney is right, this hospitality is not a gifting, it is a discipline “in which we are called - and invited - to grow.” It is more than an occasional gifting because it is rooted in the very nature of God and the experience of our own lives. God is the one who has come near, the one who has chosen to tabernacle with creation. God is the one who calls strangers out of obscurity into a life of being known and then sends us out to see and know others.

The call to show hospitality to the stranger is one that we can immediately invite our new friends to live into also. Michelle (not her real name) lives across the street from our co-laborers, the Chappotins. Recently several close Christian friends essentially abandoned the Chappotins after they confessed that they were struggling financially. However, when Michelle, their very skeptical-of-Christianity neighbor, heard about their situation she barged into their living room and began making plans for their two families to share meals and other expenses. The stranger offering hospitality in return is indescribably beautiful.

For the Established Church: Several years ago I was a part of a conversation about small groups. Pastors from multiple congregations were attempting to help their congregations connect more deeply with one another through the venue of small group ministry. One of our primary questions was whether to organize small groups using the homogeneous unit principle or by geographical proximity. The conversation was incredibly frustrating because it seemed to be driven by a defeatist “just the way it is” attitude which was resigned to people ignoring their neighbors.

I was a little surprised to find this issue once again being discussed in the context of planting house churches. It seemed that our commitment to our neighborhoods would settle the dispute before it began. Yet for the Christian families who joined our movement, experience told them that they would enjoy house church best if they carefully selected those with whom they’d be sharing life.

School(s) for Conversion is most helpful in that it locates the significance of geographical proximity in a more healthy place than did our dialog several years ago. We were unable to come to any consensus in that conversation and I believe it was because we weren’t asking the right questions first.

It would have been incredibly beneficial if members of new monastic communities could have spoken to us about the need for proximity emerging as a result of commitments to communal disciplines; serving this higher more important goal. If we were first committed to “common prayer, common meals, mutual confession of sins, spiritual guidance, and celebration, then geographical proximity [could have been] a great catalyst.” Instead, we attempted to pursue proximity in hopes that common practices would result.

The author highlights that we, including the members of established churches, have already chosen to organize by proximity. Yet it is primarily our closeness to school, work and favorable living conditions that has driven us, more so than proximity to members of our community. It is difficult to imagine how we can live out the call of the “one-another” passages in scripture when we see each other once a week.

It is the people in proximity sharing a common rule that really makes this principle so powerful. Most of us live near other people. Many times we are even friendly to those people, but sharing neighborhood space and sharing life are not inherently synonymous. When we do choose to engage one another more intentionally, we hold each other up through shared meals, shared celebrations and struggles...shared life. This may happen spontaneously. Probably not.

Established churches that have chosen to commit more intentionally to spiritual formation in a small group ministry may well find that geographical proximity is incredibly helpful. It will be important for these churches to remember to maintain the proper focus. Being close to others enhances our opportunities to live out the “one another” passages of scripture, it is not itself the fulfillment of those things.

Helping the Church Be The Church: Reflections on New Monasticism part I

New Monasticism by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove

This is part of a series of posts raising questions about the impact and benefits of New Monasticism. Please refer back the Introduction for more background. Quotes in this essay are from the book being reviewed unless otherwise noted. You can contact me for a list of references cited.

The title of this series of essays is taken from the book New Monasticism, where Wilson-Hartgrove states, “Monasticism, I learned, isn’t about achieving some sort of individual or communal piety. Its about helping the church be the church.” This brief and very accessible book is, in many ways, a foundational text for the new monastic movement.

For New Monastic Communities: Perhaps one of the central issues for new monastic communities can be summed up by the title of chapter three, “A Vision So Old It Looks New.”

Recently, while reading/writing at Starbucks, a young man saw my copy of this book and asked excitedly, “Are you living in community?” He quickly identified himself with a group preparing to form a community drawn from the example of the Catholic Worker Movement. It was readily apparent that his vision is bold and prophetic...and I got the impression that it was also more than a little romanticized. I thoroughly applaud his zeal and passion; he strikes me as a very sincere guy and I pray that he and his friends will see miracles of transformation beyond their wildest imaginations. I believe New Monasticism will be a great book for him.

Wilson-Hartgrove recognizes that it isn’t in the big displays or bold public declarations that we find the essence of this movement. He says, “the real radicals aren’t quoting Che Guevara...[they] are learning to pray.” Success isn’t defined in a highly visible, popular ministry. It is contained in the small and seemingly insignificant.

And yet within these insignificant encounters, enormous things are taking place. The seed of a new empire is planted and hope for a real actual Lord other than Caesar begins to spread. It spreads life to life and house to house until whole neighborhoods, communities and cultures are infected. But it doesn’t begin with a movement. It begins with a person. It began with God walking in the garden God created; with Jesus walking the dusty roads of Galilee and Jerusalem. It spreads to our own life and then to the lives of the very real people with whom we find ourselves experiencing community. Only then do others begin to take notice.

If this movement isn’t about doing something large and flashy, neither is it about doing something new. These fresh expressions of faith are anchored in a long history of the Spirit guiding communities in similar ways. We are not compelled to be novel nor are we to become enthralled with our own creativity. God is the author and instigator of this movement and history is filled with tremendous guides and teachers for those who would answer the call to live in such a way. Creativity is valued and freedom to experiment with fresh ideas is granted, but Peter Maurin reminds us, “we can be encouraged by signs of something new precisely because they’re signs of what God has been doing for centuries...there’s no reason to think that God is doing something in our midst that hasn’t been done before.”

For Missional Monastic Church Planting: I’ve been living this way of faith intentionally for the last several years, first as preacher attempting to connect with skeptical neighbors in the unique cultural matrix in the post-Katrina New Orleans area. Most recently I’ve been experimenting with cultivating community as a church planter among equally skeptical neighbors in the south Fort Worth area. One of the most important lessons I can point to has only become evident to me in the past couple months. Even if we model this way of life, if we don’t invite people directly into their own expression they’ll quickly find a comfortable seat in the bleachers.

“We’re living together as God’s people to see how the Bible works as a manual for how to live together as God’s people.” This statement carries incredible implications for each of the three groups we’re addressing in this essay. Yet for those who are seeking to cultivate new communities among non-Christians and new Christians it issues a special heads-up. Grassroots movements of this nature are true to the ethos of the monastics and it is exciting to serve as missionaries bearing messages of hope and revolution to the margins of society just as so many have in the past. But it is easy to inadvertently bogart the best parts of the revolution!

One of the most common questions we receive from established churches is, “where is the accountability? How do you ensure solid theology and doctrine?” As we move into abandoned places of empire, as we engage in life with marginalized people in the midst of their marginalization, as we give and receive hospitality we are faced with the very real experience of being out of control. This is precisely what the desert vision teaches us to embrace. Yet as we form new communities, new house churches and the like, our residual fears urge us to control teaching and leadership, and our new friends quickly find their niche as passive learners in a living room.

Certainly there will always be a need for educated leaders and teachers and hopefully other books will address this issue. However, New Monasticism provided great insight by reminding us that as we are sent to the margins we find that God is already there. Much to our surprise, the people we encounter have much to teach us. Our task is to come alongside, not call them to get in line behind us.

For the Established Church: One of my good friends, a priest in the Episcopal tribe, is constantly reminding me that the established church needs movements like ours and our movement needs the established church and that this is how it has always been. I believe that Wilson-Hartgrove would concur. In the final chapter he states clearly, “We’re not trying to leave the church behind and do something new on our own...We are finding our way with Jesus, and what we’re finding is that we need the church.”

The new community’s need for connection to the church - both local and historical - was briefly addressed in a previous section. My own tribe, the Churches of Christ, developed out of the Second Great Awakening on the American frontier with a strong commitment to congregational autonomy and a fiercely independent streak (true to the American ethos). Over time this devolved into generally ahistorical and isolationist tendencies which have threatened the long-term survival of the movement. A commitment to the small, organic and neighborhood life of faith cannot mean a dismissal of the larger community that has passed the faith on to us.

We will not help the church be the church by leaving the church or attacking the church. And yet, neither can we be faithful in our love for the church by remaining silent in the face of great need. The point the book makes is not that churches must sell their buildings and purchase homes for members to share, but “if the gospel is good news for everyone, we’ve got to find ways to make that real for the whole church...My point is not that churches ought to imitate new monastic communities but that another way is possible.” One of the great contributions of this book to the established church is simply to raise the question, “what would it look like for your church, conference or denomination to engage one another and society in this way?” This book serves to spark imagination and conversation among established churches, not paint the full picture.

Helping The Church Be The Church: Reflections on New Monasticism

Introduction

Monasticism is about embracing the life of God. For some monastics this has meant a life of solitude; for many it is about true community (as opposed to surface level, transactional relationships). One contemporary leader of a monastic movement said, “Monasticism, I learned, isn’t about achieving some sort of individual or communal piety. Its about helping the church be the church.”

I describe our approach to church planting - which is focused on living the Way of Jesus and cultivating relationships in our neighborhoods, work places and coffee shops rather than on mass invitations to an event - as missional monasticism. (maybe that's a post I should write as well...)

For a brief introduction to new monasticism check out www.newmonasticism.org and be sure to check out the post on the "12 Marks."

A respected teacher and theologian, deeply invested in issues of justice for the oppressed recently asked me, “What does the ‘new monastic’ movement really have to offer the Church that is substantially different?”

So, that has become a guiding question in my studies at Perkins this semester. During the course of seven brief interactions with different texts, I’ll begin to anticipate how the authors of these books would respond to that very issue. Specifically, I plan to consider three primary questions. The first couple pages will review the book’s central offering to: 1) the development of new monastic communities and participants and 2) the planting and cultivation of missional-monastic communities among primarily non-Christians and new Christians.

The final section of each paper will then be dedicated to the contribution of these communities and the book influencing them to 3) the established church which wants to effectively function as the body of Christ beyond the Sunday morning worship event.

Obviously, essays of this length cannot hope to fully explore these questions; they will rather serve as springboards for further consideration, conversation and experimentation “in the field.” I'm posting rough drafts here on the blog and would love feedback. Again, this is meant to start conversations not provide a definitive response. If what you read raises questions - ask them! I'd love to have some dialog here that will benefit the refining process for this project.

Why is This Night Different?

Over the past few weeks I've been participating with a community of fellow travelers in a 40 Day commitment to prayer and reading scripture. This past week we read the book of Luke...before that we read Isaiah, Micah, Haggai, Hosea, Mark and part of Matthew. It has been pretty intense - Rachel and I have been deeply affected by this experience.

I put this post together based on some comments I made in our worship gathering yesterday (January 31). Hopefully you will find it beneficial...

Jesus and his disciples are gathered in the upper room for the Passover. This is a religious celebration that they've participated in every year for their entire lives. Everything about this event had meaning. Even as children they had a role to play in the ritual. There were questions that they would ask their father - they'd ask about the bitter herbs, the unleavened bread, even the way in which they sat around the table. The answers given were the same each year and they'd likely have been able to give it word for word. The herbs reminded them of the bitter enslavement they experienced in Egypt, the unleavened bread recalled the haste of their departure. It wasn't just stories about their ancestors in Egypt - THEY were slaves in Egypt and this was the hour of their deliverance.
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The “4 Questions” of the Passover Meal (Seder)
Asked by the youngest person (usually youngest son) at the table:

1) "Why is it that on all other nights during the year we eat either bread or matzoh, but on this night we eat only matzoh?"
ANSWER We eat only matzah because our ancestors could not wait for their breads to rise when they were fleeing slavery in Egypt, and so they took the breads out of their ovens while they were still flat, which was matzah.

2) "Why is it that on all other nights we eat all kinds of herbs, but on this night we eat only bitter herbs?"
ANSWER We eat only Maror, a bitter herb, to remind us of the bitterness of slavery that our ancestors endured while in Egypt.

3) "Why is it that on all other nights we do not dip our herbs even once, but on this night we dip them twice?"
ANSWER We dip twice - (1) green vegetables in salt water, and (2) Maror in Charoses, a sweet mixture of nuts and wine. The first dip, green vegetables in salt water, symbolizes the replacing of tears with gratefulness, and the second dip, Maror in Charoses, symbolizes sweetening the burden of bitterness and suffering to lessen its pain.

4) (original) "On all other nights we eat meat which has been roasted, stewed, or boiled, but on this night we eat only roasted meat."
ANSWER I don’t have the exact wording of this answer - it hasn’t been used since the destruction of the 2nd Temple in AD 70. Sacrifices offered to God would have been roasted - thus the Passover lamb was to be roasted to remind the people of the sacrifice made on their behalf.

4) (contemporary - changed after the destruction of the temple and thus the sacrificial system in AD 70) "Why is it that on all other nights we eat either sitting or reclining, but on this night we eat in a reclining position?"
ANSWER We recline at the Seder table because in ancient times, a person who reclined at a meal symbolized a free person, free from slavery, and so we recline in our chairs at the Passover Seder table to remind ourselves of the glory of freedom.

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It is this meal that Jesus reinterprets and reframes for the disciples - Jesus was to be the Passover lamb and this night really and truly was their night of exodus to be experienced anew each time they ate the meal together. Jesus was the bread, Jesus was the cup and whenever they ate and drank they were again to live this night of deliverance. The time was upon them, the events that Jesus had alluded to for 3 years were about to take place...everything was coming to a head.

When the disciples were sent out before they were sent to the children of Israel and they were to expect to receive hospitality. The Israelites they went to were to provide resources and protection, food and shelter, warmth and companionship. But now things were about to change. They'd been sent out before and lacked nothing. But now they were being sent to the wolves...so to speak. They would be carrying this gospel beyond the house of Israel - to the whole world. This is an especially important theme for Luke, one that we'll see stressed again and again throughout Acts. 

And it is within this context of the new phase of live for both Jesus and his disciples that they are reminded of their experience being sent out with nothing and yet lacked nothing. Now as they are sent out - or scattered - they were to go prepared for whatever would come their way - they were to take purse (money) and bag and even a sword - meaning that they could expect to encounter troubles (interestingly, I believe it is only Luke that includes this story). They should be wise and they should not expect to receive the same welcome that they did before. In fact, they should expect that just as Jesus would soon be arrested and murdered, they too would receive harsh treatment.

It is certainly true that the Jewish people had themselves not been entirely hospitable - they were after all about to kill Jesus. But remember, that was driven by the religious leaders. The people: the poor and the lame as well as many who were wealthy, were incredibly interested in what Jesus had to say - even if they eventually decided his words were too hard to put into practice.

As usual the disciples miss the point - they ask if two swords is enough, apparently still waiting for Jesus to give them the signal to begin fighting and usher in an earthly kingdom. Jesus' terse response seems to carry a sigh. The point isn't that they are to go get swords (which were still a common item for travelers - not just warriors), the point was that just as the Israelites in Egypt and the participants in the Passover, they needed to realize that the hour of action, the hour of deliverance was upon them and they were to be ready for it.

Following the night of sorrow and prayer in the garden, when Jesus is arrested, he is still obviously against violence in the name of this overthrow of the empire. The seed of a new empire has been planted and hope for a Lord other than Caesar will spread. It spreads life to life and house to house until whole neighborhoods, communities and cultures are infected. But it doesn’t begin with violence or force. It begins with a person. It began with God walking in the garden God created, walking with Israel across the dry ground where the Red Sea was supposed to be; with Jesus walking the dusty roads of Galilee and Jerusalem. It spreads to our own life and then to the lives of the very real people with whom we find ourselves experiencing community. Only then do others begin to take notice.

Those who have ears to hear, let them hear...