I’m more than a bit of a grammar nerd. I’m fascinated by the way language is constructed, by the way words convey meaning and the ways they relate to each other. I’m such a grammar nerd that I have a whole argument laid out in my head (soon to be committed to this site) about why prepositions are the most important category of words. As I’ve begun to learn the original Biblical languages over the past number of years, I’m fascinated by them, too.
At our church during this season of Lent, we’ve been working through a series called “Behold the Man!”. It’s based on the words of Pontius Pilate when the soldiers had dressed up Jesus as a king, intended to mock Him (but ironically dressing Him in an expensive purple robe, which actually was fit for a king!). When Jesus is brought out before the crowd after being flogged, spit on, mocked, and dressed in the robe and a crown of thorns by the Roman soldiers, Pilate says to the crowd as he’s trying to set Jesus free, “Behold the man!” (John 19:5).
You might know that the church body I belong to—Lutheran Church—Canada (LCC)—has been rocked in recent years by a scandal involving a collective fund (called the Church Extension Fund, or CEF) that was set up in my District of LCC almost 100 years ago to help congregations with building projects. In January 2015 we were informed that the fund was insolvent. Then we learned it was insolvent because most of the fund was used to provide for the development of one gigantic church/school/housing project which, basically from its inception, was in trouble.
Two weeks ago, we had a reading from 2 Corinthians 5:1-17 in our worship gathering. It's a jam-packed reading, and we focused in more on the end of the reading, where the Apostle Paul describes the new creation that we are in Christ. Last week we read from 2 Corinthians 6:1-13, and I referred to 5:18-21 to "fill the gap" in the system of readings that we have that didn't include those few verses.
There's an oft-repeated phrase in some documents that are hundreds of years old: "believe, teach, and confess". The documents are a collection of statements about what some Christian churches in 16th-century Germany were doing. And quite often the introduction to these explanations was, "our churches believe, teach, and confess...".
In my sermon this past Sunday I mentioned, almost in passing, that the time between the Ascension of Jesus and the Day of Pentecost was a time of active waiting for the Church. It's something that stuck out to me while preparing last week, and is something that I haven't seen a lot of reflection on: that after the Ascension, the Apostles went about their work while they waited. I didn't have time on Sunday to explore that thought much more than simply saying that it happened, so I want to do that here where we have more time and space to reflect on this "little" point.
It seems like it should be easier to take a breath, doesn't it? As a pastor, the time before Easter is an extra-busy one, with more worship gatherings to plan and lead, more events to coordinate, and more people to connect with. "I'll need to take a look at that after Easter" becomes a default answer to requests that come in, especially during the couple of weeks prior to Holy Week (which starts Palm Sunday and runs through Easter Sunday).