Staying with a "Glover"

Hospitality is a 2-way street. Those who would learn hospitality must learn to accept hospitality with grace from unlikely candidates in unlikely places. The "house of a tanner" is perhaps the least likely place for "particular" Peter to lay his head for a little while, but in this instance the "house of a tanner" is in fact the Good Shepherd's sheep fold.

John 10:22–30

Jesus and the Gentiles: Those "Other" Sheep

John gives a very specific time and place reference here. The when is winter. There may even be snow falling (rarely) as Jesus walks along the porch among the "gentile" God-fearers who seek to offer prayer and financial contributions, to be part of the action near the center of the Jerusalem sacrificial cultus, perhaps within sight of the smoke rising from the altar for burnt offerings. Jesus has followers, walking along behind or in front of him like a small flock of sheep, perhaps carrying and leading lambs of their own, or pigeons and turtle doves for sacrifice. The "Festival of the Dedication" (10:22) to which they have all come is the feast commemorating the re-dedication of the temple by Judas Maccabeus (1 Maccabees 4:36-59) in 164 B.C. after the defeat of the Seleucids (Syrian Greeks). The eight-day celebration marked a joyous end to the humiliation of gentile rule over Jerusalem and its temple, removing the disgrace that had cast a shadow over the altar and replacing shame with gladness. The festival is still known by its Hebrew name today, Hanukkah, and is still celebrated by Jews the world over (not just in Jerusalem) in December.

© Copyright 2010 by Debbie Rockey. Jesus in the Temple Portico in Solomon's Colonnade in Winter, John 10:22-23. Image rights available ($2.50) for church use.

John also tells us where Jesus was, specifically. He was in Solomon's Colonnade (aka, the "Portico of Solomon" or "Solomon's Porch"), a covered walkway along the perimeter of the courtyard of the gentiles, on the east side of the temple. Whatever else we may say about the location and its specificity, we should remember these things about Jesus and his relation to the nations (gentiles), especially the Greeks and Romans:

• Jesus came as the "light" of the world, especially the light to the gentiles (John 8:12, 9:5; Matthew 4:15ff. quoting Isaiah 9:1; Luke 2:32).
  
• Jesus came to bring justice and hope to the nations (gentiles; Matthew 12:18, 21).
  
• In Jerusalem, Jesus would be handed over to the gentiles for execution (Mark 10:33; Matthew 20:18-19).
  
• Jesus expects the love and welcome that his disciples extend to their enemies (e.g., the Seleucids, or the Greeks and Romans) to go beyond that of the gentiles (Matthew 5:41; the same goes for their praying, Matthew 6:7; and their concern for livelihood, Matthew 6:32).
  
• Jesus expects his followers to become servants, not lords, following the pattern that Jesus set in contrast to the pattern adopted by the nations (or "gentiles," Mark 10:42 // Matthew 20:25 // Luke 22:25).
  

Perhaps there is a thread connecting this pericope with the "parable" that comes in 10:1-6 and 10:7-18, especially in the contrast between Jesus (the Good Shepherd, but also the sacrificial lamb in 10:11ff.) and the thief or "bandit" (Greek lestes) of 10:1. If it is true that the anti-Roman revolutionaries of Jesus' day were known as "bandits," then Jesus may be making a contrast between their way and his way of gathering and protecting the flock. (There is almost certainly also a connection between the reference here and Jesus' famous line about the temple: "My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves" [lestes], Matthew 21:13, KJV.) Moreover, if the "other sheep" of 10:16 are the gentiles and the "hired hands" are the Jewish leaders (see Jeremiah 23:1-6 and Ezekiel 34:1-24), then it is surely significant that Jesus chooses "Solomon's Porch" in the courtyard of the gentiles during the "Festival of the Dedication" to claim unity with the Father and to tacitly acknowledge his identity as the Christ. One greater than Judas Maccabeus is here, but his relationship with the nations (gentiles) will be far different and lastingly (eternally) effective. Oddly enough, in John and for John's reader, the sheep need protection from the Jewish leaders far more than from the supposed threat of the gentiles.

Peter at the Tanners': Staying for a While, Preparing to Welcome Cornelius

Acts 9:36–43

With the identity and conversion of Saul of Tarsus, aka Paul (Acts 13:9) the Apostle to the Gentiles, now on the record (last week, Acts 7:54-8:3 and 9:1-30), Luke turns in earnest toward an account of the arrival of the gospel in the home of a gentile named Cornelius. But first, the unlikely bearer of the first ray of Good News to the gentiles must stop at the house of a tanner.

© Copyright 2010 by Debbie Rockey. Peter at Simon the Tanner's House, Acts 9:43. Image rights available ($2.50) for church use.

It is probably no coincidence that the only other time we hear of this Tanner guy (or any other tanner, for that matter) in the New Testament is in the immediately adjacent story of the Peter's summons to the house of Cornelius. It serves as Peter's "address" in Joppa, the "house of Simon the tanner by the sea" (Acts 10:6 and 10:32), but it seems to me that, given the "contents" of the vision, Luke is injecting both a sense of humor and a significant theological point.

But to get the point, we need to know more about the Tanners and their cousins, the Glovers. The Tanner surname "is an ancient Anglo-Saxon occupational surname for someone employed as a tanner of animal skins and hides." In other words, Tanners come from the tanning, an important skill and first step in the manufacture (back when manufacture still meant "hand work") of everyday items: waterskins, bags, boats, armor (especially shields, but also greaves and bracers), quivers, scabbards, boots and shoes (or sandals), belts, gloves (for protection, gardening, etc.), hats (let's not get started with the supposed connection between "hatters" and madness), aprons, harness, saddles, and tethers and ties, straps and strops of all sorts.

The English derivation of the name is from the Olde English pre 7th Century tannere, from the Late Latin tannarius, which was reinforced by the Old French verb taneor, introduced by the Normans after the Conquest of 1066. The ultimate derivation is thought to be from an ancient Celtic word for the oak (tree), whose bark was used in the tanning process.

(Source, http://www.surnamedb.com/surname.aspx?name=Tanner") Is it any wonder then that Simon the tanner's house is "by the sea"?

In ancient history, tanning was considered a noxious or "odiferous trade" and relegated to the outskirts of town, amongst the poor. Indeed, tanning by ancient methods is so foul smelling that tanneries are still isolated from those towns today where the old methods are used.

(Source, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanning) It was the "combination of urine, animal feces and decaying flesh that made ancient tanneries so odiferous."

(Image source, http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d9/Leather_tanning%2C_Fes.jpg)

If you add to this description of tanning the fact that most ancient manufacturers, including the "clothes washers" (or "fullers," who used urine instead of soap to loosen the dirt from the clothes) of ancient Rome, lived above or alongside their place of employment, then you'll understand why Peter is having trouble sleeping. And why he is dreaming of large sheets being lowered with all kinds of unclean animals on them. (Acts 10:9-23)

Peter is "enjoying" the hospitality of a Tanner.

© Copyright 2010 by Debbie Rockey. Peter's Vision of a Large Sheet, filled with unclean animals, four-footed animals, reptiles, and birds of the air, Acts 10:11. Image rights available ($2.50) for church use.

Peter is stepping outside his "comfort zone" as the gospel moves westward (in addition to northward, last week, to Damascus) outside the confines of Jerusalem. Peter's first stop, the thing that brings him to Joppa, is innocuous enough (if death can be innocuous). A woman named Tabitha (Greek, Dorcas), a counterpart to Stephen the Spirit-filled deacon, has died. Her name means "gazelle" (an even-toed ruminant, a clean animal) and she is clearly one of the chosen sheep. Hearing that Peter is in the area, the followers of the Way summon him to attend her "memorial service" and to hear a recounting of Dorcas' good deeds. She is given the name "disciple" (mathetria, the feminine form of the Greek word, only here in the New Testament). Tabitha (Greek, Dorcas) is, like Stephen, one who cares for widows. Peter raises her from the dead and the miracle draws attention, as one might expect, which keeps Peter unexpectedly (providentially?) pinned for a while in Joppa, accepting the hospitality of a Tanner. There is, as we said, good humor here. We do not have a stinky corpse (no 4-day Lazarus here), but the place where Peter is staying stinks (literally!!!) and Peter has to be holding his nose while he sleeps, eats, etc. at Simon's house. In order to learn how to extend hospitality to the gentile Cornelius, Peter must take the first step in learning to accept hospitality from a Tanner. We too must accept the hospitality of those sheep who are not of this sheep fold, so that we may hear the call of Christ to extend the reach of the gospel to those who are "unclean."

Guest with a Bad Reputation

Saul, before he becomes Paul, is one bad dude, an anti-Christian. In order to complete the work that has been begun by Saul's transformation into Paul by an encounter (Theophany or Christophany) with the risen Jesus, the church and its leaders must with courage and forgiveness welcome the transformed Saul to the table, much as Jesus welcomed Simon aka Peter to breakfast after Peter's denial.

Acts 9:1-20

The Murdering Visitor

Saul was still "breathing threats" and murder against the disciples (mathetes) of the Lord. (Acts 7:58-8:3) Saul was on the wrong side in the conflict early on, at the stoning of Stephen.




(Image source, http://www.stainedglassphotography.com/Galleries/Tiffany/Tiffany_UCCMontclair_The_Stoning_of_Stephen.jpg)

He moves quickly from mere "witness"--garment guard or coat check--at a stoning, taking on ever greater involvement and an ever more active role. Saul starts quickly down a terrible path of destruction, first simply by "taking pleasure in" the "elimination" of Stephen (suneudokeo, approving or taking pleasure; see Jesus' "woe" to those who witness and approve the killing of the prophets in Luke 11:48; also anairesis, "removal" by murder). Soon Saul is breaking into homes, terrorizing families, and abducting both men and women (suro, dragging away; paradidomi, handing over [same word for betrayal, by Judas of Jesus] to prison). In Acts 4:29 already, even before the stoning of Stephen, we hear the disciples praying for courage in the face of such threats against their lives. It is poetic justice, or ironic, that the one who bound and imprisoned disciples who were followers of the Way will soon enough himself be bound and imprisoned as a disciple of Jesus (e.g., Acts 22:29). Saul is aligned in his behavior against the disciples with both Judas (betrayal) and Barabbas (murder, phonos; Mark 15:7, Luke 23:19, 25). Saul's murderous intent (and very likely also "success" at murderous action) is not portrayed as a tragic mistake of circumstance, a one-time slip. Saul is not a victim of police entrapment. As Jesus says (Matthew 15:19, Mark 7:21) and as Paul will affirm (Romans 1:29), murder comes straight from the murderous heart. Saul, however he may have viewed his own actions, is not a commandment keeper.




(Image Source, http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7b/Stoning_St_Stephen_Saint-Etienne-du-Mont.jpg)

The kind of atrocity in which Saul participated is still known to us today, the victims are now called The Disappeared, e.g., in Argentina (Project Disappeared; see the Wikipedia article on "forced disappearance," which is now recognized as a crime against humanity by the International Criminal Court, without a statute of limitations.

We are all quite aware of the "conversion" of Saul on the road to Damascus. (Which we should be, since Luke recounts it three times with slight variation in Acts 9, 22, and 26.) We know from hundreds of paintings and Sunday School drawings that Saul is caught up short, stopped in his tracks, floored by the lightning flashes of a heavenly spotlight.




(Image source, http://www.wga.hu/art/m/michelan/2paintin/4paul1.jpg)


Fallen to the ground, Saul hears a voice asking "Why are you pursuing [persecuting, dioko] me?" After inquiring as to the identity of the one who is speaking to him, Saul receives the classic response that God thunders from out of a theophany ("I am," ego eimi), but with Jesus as the predicate nominative: "I am Jesus." Moreover, the voice adds a personal note: "I am Jesus, whom you are pursuing [persecuting, the double entendre cannot but assert itself]." In other words, Saul has caught that which he did not know he was seeking. His "sir" is his Lord. Perhaps it is saying too much to say that those who persecute the church are really, but ignorantly, pursuing Christ in their destruction of his body. Maybe. But the prayer of Stephen (and Jesus) seems apropos: forgive him [Saul], he's ignorant. His blindness at the encounter with the risen and ascended Christ is only the latest symbol of Saul's real situation. The other details--Saul's three day fast and the like--point to his sharing the sufferings (with the pattern of death, burial, resurrection) of the one whom he was persecuting.

Though much has often been made--and for good reason--about brave Ananias, the disciple who hears and obeys the commandment from the Lord to "Go!" to Saul, what are we to make of the equally important person named Judas? We know his name and his address on Straight Street in Damascus, and we know that he is a man of hospitality.




(Image source, http://images.travelpod.com/users/juliank/middle-east-07.1196012340.straight-streetx-damascus-old-city.jpg)



Judas welcomes this murderer into his house; he provides shelter and eventually provides food, and perhaps even the pool in which Saul was baptized. But Judas does not receive the acclaim that Ananias receives. I doubt any of us could have named him if the question had come up in a trivia game before we read the scripture this morning.




(Image source, http://sahab-travel.com/arabmedlab2006/damas_imgs/damascus_ananias_church.jpg)



Ananias in his approach to Saul foreshadows Peter, who in the very next chapter of Acts must be told three times not to call anything impure that God has made clean. Peter is sent to the home of Cornelius, a centurion in the Italian regiment, and must embrace him as a brother and stay with him as a guest. In order to accept his mission from the Lord, Peter must overcome the prejudice he has against things that Jesus said cannot defile a person, for example, what a person eats. But Ananias had to overcome his fear of Saul's past, a real past, full of persecution and murder, things that Jesus said come out of a person and so do defile the person. So Ananias rightly receives his due, but what about Judas, Saul's host while Saul ate, drank, slept, and gained strength in Damascus and began to preach the gospel? Without Judas, there cannot be an Ananias or an answer to Saul's prayers for restoration. Without Judas, the person Jesus has chosen as an instrument to suffer and to carry the name Jesus before the Gentiles and their kings and before Israel itself would not have known the grace that accompanies Christ's judgment, the strength that comes from our fellowship with brothers and sisters, and the mission on which he would embark at once to bring the gospel to Greek speakers.

Hospitality is important. Hospitality to those against whom we hold prejudices is vital to the gospel. Hospitality to our enemies will rock the world.

John 21:1-19

Forgiveness, Welcome, Call

(Image source, http://christianeducational.org/ushop/images/PWmorningshorea.jpg)

Jesus provides ample example of this Way toward forgiveness and hospitality in his appearance by the Sea of Tiberias. Here are the disciples who forsook him and denied him at the crucial hour. They have shown what sort of men they are. Simon Peter is here, leading the pack back to fishing for fish. The risen Jesus, still without permanent room and board, welcomes their return with open arms on the shore, sharing his fire and his fish. Jesus meets them with an invitation to fellowship: "Come and have breakfast." After breakfast Jesus takes Peter aside and tells him to feed and tend the sheep, renewing Peter's call to follow Jesus.

So Peter and Paul are joined in this week's reading as recipients of the Lord's forgiveness, hospitality, and call.

The Ten Commandmants

August 15-October 17

We will begin a sermon series on The Ten Commandments as school resumes this August. In addition to sermon notes each week, the blog will include discussion starters and questions for small groups to use during their reflection times.

The primary source for the series will be Interpretation: The Ten Commandments

This resource will be augmented with the following:

The Truth about God

Smoke on the Mountain

The Ten Commandments: The Liberating Rules of God

Please write to let me know if there are other, better resources that you have used for teaching and preaching to good effect. And also let us all know why you prefer your resource books to those recommended here.

Shut the Door, Keep Out ... Jesus?

Nowhere to Hide!

There is a striking contrast in the lectionary for the Second Sunday of Easter between John 20:19, when the disciples are huddled together behind doors locked in fear, and Acts 5:29, when Peter gives a bold witness to the exaltation of the crucified Jesus, saying, "We must obey God rather than men!" The fact of the crucifixion has not changed, so what has transpired that has so dramatically changed the disciples' outlook from fear to courageous proclamation and mission? On Pentecost Sunday, we are likely to claim that the difference in their outlook arrived abruptly with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit (a dram of courage) at the birth of the church, but the first of today's readings suggests that the Holy Spirit's work on these disciples' hearts began somewhat earlier, within a day of the resurrection.

(Image Source, http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8a/Scared_Child_at_Nighttime.jpg)

Though I do not claim to understand the full depth of the terror that gripped the disciples in the aftermath of the crucifixion--the sort of terror that comes from having witnessed a dreadful miscarriage of justice while living under an authoritarian regime as a minority during times of civil unrest--we have all experienced fear, to one degree or another, rational or irrational, with credible basis or without. We have all experienced an emotional response to a perceived threat. And, if we are able, we take steps to escape or avoid that threat. That's what the disciples have done following the death of Jesus: they have identified what they perceive to be the external threat, "the Jews" (John 20:19; but because all these disciples of Jesus are also Jews [as was Jesus!], the phrase must be a kind of shorthand for "the Jewish religious leaders in Jerusalem" or the like). Reasonable or not, they perceive that they are in danger and so they have locked themselves behind closed doors to avoid the threat to their own lives from those who killed Jesus.

When my wife and I were first married, and again for a few years immediately after leaving graduate school, we lived in "cheap" apartments in what you might call the less affluent part of town. Though, statistically speaking, we were never realistically in any significant danger, we do have "fond memories" of these "good old days," of flying out of bed and hitting the floor at the sound of gunshots being fired. Whether the shots came from an apartment building or two down the street--and whether or not the sound really came from a backfiring car or a miscreant's late-night firecracker--we always overreacted. We called the police more than once. And we weren't alone in our fear; it was clearly shared by the previous inhabitants of each apartment. The one characteristic common to all three of these apartments was the number of "security locks" on the front door, a steel safety door. (They were installed before we moved in.) We regularly reinforced our sense of insecurity every time we slid the bolt ("click"), snapped the deadbolt ("click"), and snaked the chain into its chamber ("rattle, rattle, click"). We always ended with that last ounce of reassurance, by giving the little button in the center of the doorknob a quarter twist and grabbing on the handle to make sure it wouldn't turn. It took five minutes to open the door again on Friday nights for the pizza delivery man!

The point of it all was to keep the threat outside. But our fear also created a barrier between us and those whom we wanted to let in. When visitors came, which was rare, we found ourselves apologizing for keeping them waiting, half apologizing for locking the door in the first place, making jokes about how careful you have to be these days. "We can't let just anyone in," we'd say, or "you never know when someone might be up to no good." We'd recount as evidence for our judicious prudence the latest incident to hit the papers: someone robbed, someone mugged, someone raped or killed. Arriving home, "click, click, rattle, rattle, click, click" I would enter; and just as quickly, "click, click, rattle, rattle, click, click" we would lock the world out.

You would have thought we had reason to fear, reason enough to sing the bluesy, folksy spiritual: "Shut de do', keep out de debil!"

There were "devils" to avoid in our world, but mostly the kinds that aren't stopped by locked doors. And there were "devils" who wanted to stop these disciples from accepting their mission to spread the Good News about Jesus. But the greater threat to the propagation of the Gospel came from the disciples' own closed room, their shut door, their strong locks. If the Good News of the Gospel were to spread, the "shet do's" of these disciples had to swing wide open.

And since you are, I presume, post-resurrection Easter people, you'll surely know that Jesus is a master at opening sealed tombs. As Peter would soon find out, Jesus is able to spring prisoners (especially those who are self-imprisoned) out of tight jams. With grace--often where he is uninvited and "unbidden"--sometimes without even unlocking the door, Jesus makes his way into our locked rooms; he takes his place in the middle of our huddle and whispers a promise of peace that blows the bars off our windows and knocks the locks off our doors.

These disciples had been with Jesus for three years. They were prepared--afraid, for sure!--but also prepared to preach the Good News of the Kingdom of God. They knew how to live on the edge; they had seen the lame walk and the blind receive their sight, seen people fed, and seen demons cast out. And they didn't always just follow, watching from a safe distance; they had already participated in real ministry of their own. Jesus had given them missions, sent them out on early assignments that they had already accomplished.

But now, in the big city after a weekend of horrific violence, they are locked in an anxious huddle. (Don't get me wrong. There were indeed "debils" out there to fear.) But in addition to misdirected fear of "the Jews," maybe their heightened anxiety also had a little bit to do with the anticipated scorn and ridicule of friends and family. Maybe they dreaded a little eating crow and lying down in a bed they themselves had made. They had publicly risked everything to follow Jesus, had believed that Jesus was the one who would redeem Israel. Someone of their friends and relatives would certainly look at them and say, "Where is your Lord and Savior now?" (The Gospel magazine, and theological review. Ser. 5. Vol. 3, no. 1-July 1874.) It was fear that had robbed them of their sense of peace; the world no longer seemed safe; so they had retreated inside and locked the doors. Their courage had died with Jesus and they had all but stopped living. Jesus had to perform a miracle just to get into the room where they were hiding and show himself to them.

Locks come in all shapes and sizes, and not just from the hardware store. It is quite natural when we have suffered some trauma in life, when we have been violated by some injustice, to lock ourselves away. When we suffer the death of a spouse, the loss of a friendship, the end of a relationship, the pain of estrangement from a loved one, rather than risk that pain again by loving again, we sometimes think it better--safer--simply to close the door, and click the lock; and, if you can't have love, at least you can have some degree of security from pain. But such a numbed existence is less than abundant life. For good students or people in careers they love, sometimes it is the fear of failure that locks the door. Better to shut down and stop trying, better to withdraw inside ourselves than to face yet another blow to our sense of self worth. For others the locks may take the form of illness, or fear of illness; financial difficulty, or fear of financial catastrophe. Job loss. Loss of mental acuity or physical strength. Fear of death.

(Image source: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e0/Caravaggio_-_The_Incredulity_of_Saint_Thomas.jpg)

But Jesus will not let fear disable these disciples. He will not let them give in to despair. As Calvin says, "it is worthy of notice how gently Christ acted towards them, in not keeping them in suspense any longer than till the evening. He brings them the pledge of new life, while darkness was overspreading the world." (Commentary, Gospel According to John, vs. 19) Jesus comes in and puts himself right in the middle of their fear, their hopelessness, and their despair. He barges right into their defensive huddle. The first thing he says is "Peace be with you." In the Gospel of John, he says it three times in a few short verses, and over the course of a week. "Peace be with you" was not then quite so strange--or as strictly religious a phrase--as it may seem to us now. Shalom lekah / Shalom lakem," was then as now, the usual way to greet a friend in Hebrew--just as salaam alak is in Arabic. It is the equivalent of saying, "hi." Often it is phrased as a question: "Hi, how's it going?" That may be what it means the first time Jesus says it. The first time they hear him utter a word after the resurrection, "peace" may just be an ice-breaking "Hi!"

Just think about that the next time you pass the peace at church. We gather behind our closed (hopefully not locked!) doors, we are called to worship, and we confess, and receive an assurance of pardon. Then the resurrected Christ bursts into our defensive circle, right into our hopeless, helpless messes, and says, "Hi!" With every greeting of "peace" we receive and every "peace" we offer, the resurrected Christ may even today be breaking through our defenses to greet us the way he greeted these first disciples.

Perhaps even the first time, but certainly by the second time he utters the phrase--Peace be with you--the meaning must be shading toward an assurance. ("My Peace" already has a back story in John 14, esp. 14:27.) He's saying "it's ok" or "everything's going to be ok." And by the last time he says it, to Thomas--Peace be with you!--it may have an edge, "Relax, already! God is in control." Jesus is telling his friends to lift up their heads, to hope, and to believe. Even the brutality of the beatings, the crown of thorns, the violence of the cross, the slandering of evil leaders have no power to take away the shalom of God. Jesus breaks into that locked room to restore peace, to make everything right again, to bring back their faith.

"Peace" also means that Jesus did not return for revenge. He is not telling his disciples to go out and wage war against his enemies. He simply reiterates his mission and theirs, to bring wholeness from the Father into a world wrecked by sin and evil and violence. Peace! Here they are, locked in by fear, and Jesus shows up to say no, no, no--unlock that door! Why? So that Jesus can come in? No. The resurrected Jesus already stands in the middle of their protective circle; he tells them to unlock the door because he is sending them on a mission. No more hiding in that room. No more hiding in our churches. No more hiding from our neighbors. Open the door and bring resurrection wholeness and peace to a world that so desperately needs it. How? How can we give peace to a violent world? By proclaiming forgiveness of sins. "If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained." (John 20:23) Tired of doubt and fear? Want peace? Then unlock that "shet do'" of forgiveness. Go out into the world and forgive the Sanhedrin, and Pilate, and Caesar, and the soldiers.

Were the disciples able to do what Jesus asked? Did they let go of the doubt and fear? Did they open the doors? Did they go as commissioned? Did they forgive? Yes! Acts 5 recounts the second or third arrest of Peter and John and the other disciples in about as many days. Having been warned and then thrown into jail for preaching, they are sprung by an angel, and go right back to work, teaching publicly in the temple. When the council and elders send temple police to the prison to have Peter and his co-agitators ("peace"-niks) brought for a hearing, the temple police find the prison doors securely locked ("click, click, rattle, rattle, click click") and guards standing at the doors, but when they open the doors, they find the cell empty. No one is inside. Where are Peter and the disciples? They are standing again in the temple, teaching and preaching forgiveness in the name of their Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ. We and the Holy Spirit are witnesses, Peter says, God raised him from death and exalted him. We and the Holy Spirit are witnesses. We cannot stay "shet up," doors locked, life over. The angels opened up our prison and told us to proclaim the message of life.

What an amazing task God gives to us, to preach peace and forgiveness to a warring world. Here we are, locked up in this place on the Second Sunday of Easter. The empty tomb was just the beginning, the first opened door. Jesus enters the places where we gather, sometimes even without our unlocking the door, and brings us the promise of peace, the whispered breath of life, that blows the bars off our windows and knocks the locks off our doors. What had terrified us in his absence is now dispelled by his presence as he says to each of us, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." We have doors to open, a mission to accomplish, good news to sing. Easter is not over; it has only just begun.

Peons

Maundy Thursday Meditation

Exodus 12:1-4 (5-10) 11-14; Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

Maundy is from mandatum, "commandment." John 13:34, mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos ut et vos diligatis invicem (Vulgate). "A new commandment I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, you also ought to love one another." (See Maundy Thursday, Wikipedia.)

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Peon, peons:

1826, from Mex.Sp. peon "agricultural laborer" (esp. a debtor held in servitude by his creditor), from Sp., "day laborer," also "pedestrian," originally "foot soldier," from M.L. pedonem "foot soldier" (see pawn (2)). The word entered British Eng. earlier (1609) in the sense "native constable, soldier, or messenger in India," via Port. peao "pedestrian, foot soldier, day laborer."

Source: Online Etymology Dictionary, http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=peon. Or see the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary entry for peon.

(Image source, http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8e/Foot-outside.jpg)

I decided on this title for the Maundy Thursday meditation while preparing an etymology lesson for my 7th grade Latin class at Southport Presbyterian Christian School. Our vocabulary for that lesson included the Latin word pēs (genitive pedis); m, third declension. One of the English words (or Spanish, as the case may be) derived from pes is "peon" (and "pawn"), i.e., a "foot soldier" (pedon). About the same time that I was preparing this lesson in etymology, I was also reading John 13 and preparing the bulletin for our Maundy Thursday service. What struck me as I read John 13:5-9 again was that Jesus chose to wash the very part of the disciple anatomy that most clearly referenced the disciples' servant status: the pedes discipulorum (Greek, tous podas ton matheton). True, Jesus was also modeling servant status himself, taking off his outer garment and wrapping a towel around his waist. He was truly being the "servant of the servants of God." But I have often wondered at Peter's objection to Jesus' action.

Perhaps it is true that Peter he did not want Jesus "demeaning" himself by playing the slave. But why the focus on the feet? And why suggest that Jesus wash not only his feet but also his head and hands? (13:9) Perhaps Peter is embarrassed by his "disciple feet." Dirty feet show that Peter has been doing the chores of a menial laborer. He has been doing drudge work, peasant work. He is a flunky for the kingdom of heaven. And perhaps Peter would rather draw attention to the more honorable parts of the body, his hands and especially his head. (1 Corinthians 12:23)

Whatever the case, Jesus makes it absolutely clear to Peter and the rest that their feet are always going to need washing (they have disciple feet, like it or not) and that they are the ones who will soon enough need to be washing feet for one another. The servant is not greater than his master, the student than his teacher, nor the apostle (messenger, footman) than the one who commissioned him. (John 13:16) This is the heart of the examination that Paul admonishes for those who are preparing to participate in the Lord's Supper. (1 Corinthians 11:28) The examination reveals our dirty disciple feet and our need for cleansing. Allowing the spotlight to fall on our servant status can be uncomfortable, as it was for Peter and the disciples. But it is necessary, so that we try to outdo one another in loving others and honoring others above ourselves. (Romans 12:10)

The prayer for Maundy Thursday is: "Teach me, Lord, to love and serve others." The question for examination this Maundy Thursday is whether there is something more that Christ is asking us to do, some greater depth of service to others that he is calling us to take up. Are your feet as dirty as they can get? Have you washed the feet of your brothers and sisters lately?

(Image source, http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7d/Simon_ushakov_last_supper_1685.jpg)