What Do You Do When the Worst Thing That Can Happen, Happens?

Like many of you, I have found myself returning in my mind today to the days following September 11, 2001.  On Thursday of that week, the little college town where we were living, Ashland, Virginia, held a memorial service on our town square.  I was among those asked to speak.  As I wrestled with what word to bring, indeed with how to speak a word of the Lord to this horrible event, I was led to Habakkuk 3.16-19.  Habakkuk saw his homeland destroyed by the Babylonians.  He knew what it was to suffer attack, to lose family and friends to a remorseless enemy.  The shock and horror we felt then, and may feel again in the wake of fresh tragedies, Habakkuk knew well.

I am reprinting below the sermon I preached then.  It is my prayer that Habakkuk’s ancient words, which spoke to me so powerfully then, will speak to you today, of honest grief, and hope, and healing.


            What do you do when the worst thing that can happen, happens?  That question weighs most heavily this morning on the hearts of those who have themselves been injured, and those who grieve for loved ones, torn from them or suffering grievous harm in this attack.  But surely, it is asked by all of us here today.

            What do you do when the worst thing that can happen, happens?  While this question was brought home to us powerfully and poignantly in the events of this past week, it is certainly not a new question.  The prophet Habakkuk saw his world destroyed.  He saw advancing Babylonian armies swallow up town after town, village after village.  He saw homes in flames.  He saw his friends and family slaughtered or taken away in chains to Babylon.  Habakkuk cried out, “Are you from of old, O LORD my God, my Holy One?  We shall not die.” (Hab. 1:12)  Surely, surely, you will not let us die.  “Your eyes are too pure and you cannot look on wrongdoing; why do you look on the treacherous, and are silent when the wicked swallow those more righteous than they?” (Hab 1:13)  Habakkuk is in shock.  He can’t accept what he sees and hears.  “I hear, and I tremble within.  My lips quiver at the sound.  Rottenness enters into my bones, my steps tremble beneath me.” (Hab 3:16)  We know how that feels, don’t we?  Seeing on the television screen, or reading the newspaper, or hearing on the radio the news of what happened Tuesday morning in Washington and New York and Pennsylvania—surely, we know how the prophet feels.  Who could believe it?  Who can believe it now?

From shock, Habakkuk moves to anger.  “I wait quietly for the day of calamity to come upon the people who attack us.” (Hab 3:17)  We know how that feels too, don’t we?  Our hearts cry out for vengeance against those who have brought this horror and devastation to our land.  We are dishonest to ourselves and dishonest to God if we do not own that anger.  But, Habakkuk didn’t stay with the anger, and neither can we.  If we stay with the anger, the desire for vengeance, then we will never heal.  We will never move on to wholeness and new life.

Sisters and brothers, God forbid that the horrific assault that our nation suffered on Tuesday should cause us to forget who we are!  We are a nation founded upon fundamental human rights and freedom for all people, affirming the essential dignity of every woman and man.  If this assault makes us forget that, then the terrorists will have won.  They will have destroyed, not just stone and mortar and steel and flesh, but the dream that makes us who we are.

A former student of mine is working as a missionary in Egypt, helping to settle Sudanese refugees.  He told me that Egyptians have been coming up to him since September 11, telling him how horrified they are by what happened and how deeply sorry they are that this has taken place.  Even the Sudanese refugees with whom he works, people who have lost everything, who have nothing, have been comforting him, telling him how sorry they are about all that has happened.  Friends, the people who committed this atrocity may have been Arabs, but the Arab people did not do this.  Those who brought this horror to us may have called themselves Muslims, but Islam did not do this.  In the difficult days ahead, should the call that justice be brought to the criminals who perpetrated this act transform itself into a cry of vengeance against a race or religion, we must recognize that prejudice for the evil that it is, repudiate it, and root it out of our midst.

So what do you do when the worst thing that can happen, happens?  Habakkuk says, “Though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit is on the vines; though the produce of the olive fails and the fields yield no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will exult in the God of my salvation.”(Hab 3:17-18)  Oh God, this is as bad as it gets!  How can we get through this? Habakkuk says, Though I cannot see your face, Lord, though I cannot feel your hand, I know you are with me: “I will rejoice in the LORD; I will exult in the God of my salvation.” (Hab 3:18).

The attacks Tuesday morning robbed us of a sense of security, of safety, of invulnerability that many of us had come to accept as our birthright.  Such things happen over there, sure, in foreign places, but they can never happen here.  We were wrong.  But then, our security never was in the strength of our military, much as we respect and honor those who serve us all in that noble calling.  Our security lies this morning where it has ever lain, in the confidence that God’s peace enfolds us, and that nothing can wrest us from God’s hand.

The apostle Paul wrote to the church at Rome, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)  That’s security, sisters and brothers–the only security we can have; the only security we truly need.

“GOD, the Lord, is my strength,” Habakkuk says; “He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.” (Hab 3:19)  A deer can make its way over seemingly impassible terrain.  It can mount up impossible precipices.  The prophet is saying, “Lord, I don’t see how I can get through this!  But I know that you have given me feet like the feet of a deer, to leap over the obstacles that lie before me, to mount up the precipices that rise to cover me.”  May that be our prayer today: that God will give us feet like a deer, to carry us through these times!  God can give us, and will give us in these coming days, the courage to meet whatever obstacles lie ahead, and the resolve to make our way through.

We’ve already begun well, by coming here to pray together, lifting ourselves and our nation up to the Lord.  We’ve already begun well, by involving ourselves in ministries of kindness and service.  God will show us, in coming days, ways that we may demonstrate God’s love and kindness to a hurting world.  But most of all, as we turn to the Lord, God will give us in these days to come the confident assurance that we are in God’s hands.  No one and nothing can take us from the hand of God—not even when the worst thing that can happen, happens.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.


“The sun became black as sackcloth. . .”


Last Monday, August 21, Wendy and I were in Bowling Green, Kentucky for the solar eclipse.  A solar eclipse happens whenever the moon passes between the earth and the sun, so that the moon’s shadow falls on the earth.  Eclipses are not unusual–one happens somewhere on the earth’s surface ever 18 months. But this was the first total eclipse visible all across the continental United States since June 8, 1918.

Total eclipses are a minor miracle.  The earth is just far enough from our sun, and our moon is just large enough and just far enough away from us, that the moon and sun have about the same apparent size in the sky.  This means that, from our perspective, the moon can entirely block the sun’s disk, making visible the wispy corona surrounding our star.

This is not always the case: since the moon orbits our planet in an ellipse rather than a circle, its apparent size at its furthest distance from us is slightly smaller than our sun.  An eclipse in those circumstances results in a thin ring of sunlight visible all around the dark lunar disk–an annular eclipse (this picture is by Kevin Baird, copyright 2012) like the one I remember viewing with a pinhole camera in West Virginia May of 1994.

The photo of the 2017 eclipse at the head of this blog was not taken by us.  It is from NASA’s Astronomy Picture of the Day site, and was taken in South Carolina, right in the center of the band of totality–that is, the area entirely within the moon’s shadow–that on August 21 crossed the continental United States, from Oregon to South Carolina.


Where we were–in the band of totality, but not at its center–the experience was different.  We watched through our viewers as the moon advanced across the sun’s disk, from a wee bite off the upper right edge until the moon’s disk entirely covered the sun.  Although the sky was mostly clear, the sunlight faded, as on an overcast day, until the world became. . . not dark, but twilit–like early evening.  It had been a hot summer day, but the air became cool.   During the minute and a half or so of totality, when we could look up with unprotected eyes, the sun was a dark black circle–like a hole in the sky.  The corona was far brighter than I had expected: a ring of brilliant white fire.

My attempts at amateur photography failed to capture what we saw at all–but as the moment of totality passed, the gaps between the leaves of the tree under which Wendy and I were sitting acted as natural pinhole cameras, refracting images of the crescent sun onto our lawn chairs:

So–why am I, a self-styled Bible Guy, blogging about this?  Most of the time, we can comfortably live as though we are at the center of the universe.  The eclipse was a vivid reminder that we are not:  that the universe is far larger, stranger, and more wonderful than our day-to-day experience may lead us to believe.

Ancient people of course also experienced eclipses, and so it should be no surprise that these awesome events are described in Scripture.  The title of this blog comes from the King James Version of Revelation 6:12:

And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood. . .

The “moon became as blood”  describes another, more commonly observed event, when the moon passes into the shadow of the earth: a lunar eclipse.

Although ancient people did not know what caused lunar and solar eclipses, they certainly knew that these events never happened in conjunction.  So the sun becoming “black as sackcloth” and the moon becoming “as blood” could only mean an undoing of the fundamental laws of creation.  John in Revelation draws on a stock of images of the coming day of the LORD, particularly Joel 2:30-31 (3:3-4 in Hebrew):

I will give signs in the heavens and on the earth—blood and fire and columns of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood before the great and dreadful day of the LORD comes.

This image is also found in the Gospel pronouncements concerning the end:

In those days, after the suffering of that time, the sun will become dark, and the moon won’t give its light. The stars will fall from the sky, and the planets and other heavenly bodies will be shaken (Mark 13:24-25; see also Matt 24:29; Luke 21:25).

Another, more surprising reference to the eclipse comes from James 1:17:

Every good gift, every perfect gift, comes from above. These gifts come down from the Father, the creator of the heavenly lights, in whose character there is no change at all.

While the Common English Bible catches the sense of this passage, it obscures some subtleties in the language.  First, God is addressed in this passage as patros ton photon: literally “the Father of lights” (see the NRSV and KJV of this verse).  The reference is likely to Genesis 1:14-19, where God populates the sky dome with lights–both the greater lights of the sun and moon, and the lesser lights of the stars.  Hence, the CEB unpacks the Greek phrase as “the Father, creator of the heavenly lights.”

This astronomical image of God continues in the following phrase: par’ ho ouk eni parallage he tropes aposkiasma.  Here, the CEB paraphrases to capture the point of this image: God does not change, but is the constant and dependable source of “every good gift.”  The KJV renders more literally, in a way that captures the astronomical reference: “with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.”  The stars change as the heavens turn above us.  Indeed, the ancients knew well not only that the stars varied in brightness and color (see 1 Cor 15:31), but that some individual stars varied in brightness over time; that new stars, as well as meteors and comets, could sometimes appear; and that the planets (from the Greek word for “wanderer”) followed their own quite distinct courses through the cosmos.  Unlike the lights, then, God their Father is constant!  But the expression he tropes aposkiasma (literally, “nor of turning a shadow”) is particularly intriguing.  I believe that it describes the eclipse.  The moon may wax, or wane, or turn blood-red, and the sun itself may dim, and even disappear–but God’s love and goodness cannot be eclipsed!  As the apostle Paul wrote,

I’m convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus our Lord: not death or life, not angels or rulers, not present things or future things, not powers or height or depth, or any other thing that is created (Rom 8:38-39).


While we were in Kentucky, we learned that my Dad’s sister, Barbara Ann Tuell, had died.  We were privileged to celebrate her life at her funeral at Big Tygart UMC, our home church.  The following memorial was written by Kim Currence Yeager, whom Barbara raised, and who cared for Barbara lovingly and faithfully through her long illness.  Thank you, Kim–and may light perpetual shine upon you, Aunt Barb!


Barbara Ann Tuell, 80, of Mineral Wells, went home to be with Jesus, on Sunday, August 20, 2017, surrounded by her loving family.

She was born July 9, 1937 in Parkersburg, the daughter of the late Robert and Vida Tuell.

She was known as Grammy, to her grandson Clayton, who she always said was her reason for fighting so hard during this long battle with cancer. She loved spending time with family and truly dedicated her life to loving and caring for them. God used her selfless, giving and gentle heart to impact their lives in a tremendous way.

She is survived by her chosen daughter who she raised from the age of seven, Kim Yeager and husband Todd and their son Clayton Reese, who she lived with; her brother, Bernard Tuell and nieces and nephews, Tammy Parker, Steven Shawn Tuell, Tracey Dent and Dee Dee Nichols. She also will be greatly missed by her best friend, Mildred Oldaker, and Kim’s brother, Alan Currence.

In addition to her parents and infant sister, she was preceded in death by her sister-in-law, Mary Tuell and Kim’s parents, Marvin and Wilodene Currence.

Her family would like to sincerely thank Dr. Kelli Cawley, Marsha McCullough and the staff at Strecker Cancer Center for all the compassionate care and kindness they provided, also to Nicole and Amedisys Hospice for comfort in these last days.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race and I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7.


Responses to “The Truth in the Bible.”

In my previous blog, I posted an open letter to the Wesleyan Covenant Association concerning their slogan “The Bible Is True” (as explained by Rev. Jeff Greenway on the WCA website).  The letter has prompted lots of response.  This year at annual conference, many people expressed appreciation for the stance I had taken–thank you.  I also thank Kris Bishop and Rev. Joe Stains for taking the time to draft detailed formal responses, deserving a reply (you can find their responses below, in full).

First, both letters acknowledge the main point of my letter: that readers of Scripture are also inescapably interpreters of Scripture.  Neither letter embraces the position Rev. Greenway advocated in his post, which is no surprise: “God said it–I believe it–that settles it” is not an accurate account of anyone’s actual approach to the Bible.  Texts must be read, interpreted, and applied prayerfully and carefully, attentive to their context in Scripture and in history.  Kris Bishop is absolutely correct that the examples I cited to make this point were not comparing “apples to apples,” but “trying to say that apples are oranges and oranges are pears.”  I agree entirely with the biblical justifications Rev. Stains uses for Sunday worship (one of my illustrations), and both Kris Bishop and Rev. Stains are correct that the texts I cited about women in ministry from the Pastoral Epistles are certainly context-bound.

But that was exactly my point.  All of us readily recognize, for example, that the ritual purity laws in Leviticus and Deuteronomy are of a different order than Leviticus 19:18 or Deuteronomy 6:5  (Jesus calls these the two greatest commandments; see Matthew 22:34-40; Mark 12:28-34; and Luke 10:25-28).  Different passages may call for different approaches.  The Bible is not flat!

I apologize if this was unclear in my letter: after all, I did write,”Consistency and honesty demand that we treat the biblical statements on this issue [that is, homosexuality] no differently than we do other texts.” But what I meant by this was that since we acknowledge the importance of context in those other matters, we ought to recognize that importance in our reading of the homosexuality passages as well (those interested in my approach to those biblical texts can find my blogs on those passages by entering “homosexuality” in the “Search” window).

This was, in particular, my reason for mentioning divorce in the letter.  I agree entirely with Rev. Stains’ pastoral approach to divorce and remarriage.  It must be acknowledged, however, that while in Matthew 19:9 and 5:31-32 divorce is permitted in cases of adultery, no such allowance is made in Luke 16:18, Mark 10:1-12, or 1 Cor 7:10-16–and remarriage is forbidden in all. We can make sense of Jesus’ teaching by seeing it in its historical and social context: in Palestine in Jesus’ day, women could not independently own property.  Divorce meant that the woman would be dependent upon her family or community to support her, and could therefore be made homeless and destitute by her husband’s rejection.  So Jesus set the Law aside and rejected divorce in order to protect women from being set aside at their husbands’ whims.

My point is that the biblical basis for opposing divorce and remarriage is as strong as if not stronger than the biblical basis for opposing LGBTQ inclusion.  Context matters–not only the historical, social, and canonical context of the biblical texts, but our own contemporary, pastoral context as well.

However, both Kris Bishop and Rev. Stains have misunderstood my reason for making this point.  Kris Bishop writes, “We cannot say that just because we don’t follow dietary law of the OT that NT laws no longer apply or should be reinterpreted.”  Rev. Stains observes, “Dr. Tuell cites these perceived contradictions as if to suggest that, since we have already taken liberty with these issues, we are now free to take it wherever we choose.”  Both seem to think that I am in danger of setting aside moral standards in Scripture, or that I am advocating for a mere relativism–since the church has already taken positions in opposition to some Scripture on some points, then anything goes! But my letter does not say this, nor is it my position.

If we grant (as both of my respondents evidently do) that ALL of us are interpreters of Scripture, then it does not do to claim that wrestling with the interpretation of the Bible amounts to declaring that “God’s Word and his will for us is no longer the truth,” or to say that those with whom we disagree “believe that those Scriptures that no longer conform to the norms of modern society are obsolete and without meaning. In essence, they want the church to proclaim to the world that in some places in Scripture, God got it wrong” (statements taken directly from Rev. Greenway’s post).

Nor, by the way, does this mean that all interpretations are equally valid–clearly, Scripture can be misread.  But surely, recognizing that we are all of us interpreters, seeking to discern God’s will in the words of Scripture, calls for humility on all sides, and a willingness to listen (and to argue!) without breaking fellowship.  Surely, such openness is in the spirit of John Wesley!

In his Sermon 39, on the “Catholic Spirit,” John Wesley unpacks 2 Kings 10:15, which reads in the King James Version “And when [Jehu] was departed thence, he lighted on Jehonadab the son of Rechab coming to meet him: and he saluted him, and said to him, ‘Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy heart?’ And Jehonadab answered, ‘It is.’ ‘If it be, give me thine hand.’ And he gave him his hand; and he took him up to him into the chariot.”  Wesley declared this as his own view with regard to sisters and brothers from other church bodies: “Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy heart? If it be, give me thine hand.”

I do not mean, “Be of my opinion.” You need not: I do not expect or desire it. Neither do I mean, “I will be of your opinion.” I cannot, it does not depend on my choice: I can no more think, than I can see or hear, as I will. Keep you your opinion; I mine; and that as steadily as ever. You need not even endeavour to come over to me, or bring me over to you. I do not desire you to dispute those points, or to hear or speak one word concerning them. Let all opinions alone on one side and the other: only “give me thine hand.”

By this, Wesley did not mean to call for mere relativism either (a position he calls “speculative latitudinarianism,” or “an indifference to all opinions: this is the spawn of hell, not the offspring of heaven”!). Indeed, Wesley held that every Christian must hold her or his convictions firmly: “A man of a truly catholic spirit has not now his religion to seek. . . . he is always ready to hear and weigh whatsoever can be offered against his principles; but as this does not show any wavering in his own mind, so neither does it occasion any.”

That said, however, Wesley was also fully aware that “humanum est errare et nescire: ‘To be ignorant of many things, and to mistake in some, is the necessary condition of humanity’” (Wesley’s own translation of a quote from the Duke of Buckingham’s epitaph)—that is, “He knows, in the general, that he himself is mistaken; although in what particulars he mistakes, he does not, perhaps he cannot, know.” This realization necessitates, in any reasonable person, a generosity of spirit:

Every wise man, therefore, will allow others the same liberty of thinking which he desires they should allow him; and will no more insist on their embracing his opinions, than he would have them to insist on his embracing theirs. He bears with those who differ from him, and only asks him with whom he desires to unite in love that single question, “Is thy heart right, as my heart is with thy heart”?

It was not my purpose in my letter, Rev. Stains, to deny that “ORTHODOX SCRIPTURAL VIEWS DO HAVE GROUNDING.”  Nor did I intend, Kris Bishop, to say that “there is no way to define sin.”  My purpose, and my hope, as I wrote in my letter, is this:

It is my prayer that we can study together, carefully and prayerfully, attentive as Rev. Greenway rightly says to our tradition, but also applying our God-given reason, and listening to the experiences of our sisters and brothers. We may not ever agree in full. But perhaps we can find sufficient concord in the Holy Spirit and Holy Scripture to recognize one another as sisters and brothers.


First, I am now on a year-long sabbatical from my position at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary.  For the duration, my blog entries will be more scattered than they have been previously.  I ask for your patience, and for your prayers for the research projects in which I am now engaged.

Second, here are the two responses to my letter, in full:

Kris Bishop (see also the comments section of my previous blog):

I’m honestly trying to see things from your perspective, but it seems that you are trying to say that apples are oranges and oranges are pears. Apples are not oranges; oranges are not pears. Hermeneutics is like this as well. A lot of things changed from the OT to the NT – a paradigm shift. We cannot look at an OT passage (an apple) the same way we can look at a NT passage that is intended to be universally interpreted, since the new paradigmatic interpretation is already applied to the passage (this is an orange). The pear is when the passage in the NT is meant for a specific purpose, place, time, scenario, etc.

We cannot say that just because we don’t follow dietary law of the OT that NT laws no longer apply or should be reinterpreted. The OT was full of adumbrations that needed to be illuminated in the NT. When Peter saw the unclean animals in the vision and was told to eat (Acts 10), the dietary law was shown to have a true purpose to point forward from the time of separation from the Gentiles to the time of inclusion of the Gentiles. Further, dietary laws are to be interpreted in light of the NT explications: “…commanding to abstain from meats…” even though “it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer” (1 Timothy 4:3-5) or Romans 14:14 that says that “there is nothing unclean of itself”.

We also cannot say that we interpret something listed as a “work of the flesh” or as “sin” as something that was given as specific instructions to a specific church. If the Bible were to say to “suffer not a HOMOSEXUAL to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence” (1 Timothy 2:12) we would have to interpret, because for a person to “be in silence” is impossible to follow 100% of the time – it was obviously meant for a specific time or situation. In this case, we would have to identify the situation that a HOMOSEXUAL wouldNOT be able to be quiet and/or to teach.

If the Bible were to say that “…A BLACKSMITH…shall not inherit the kingdom of God” (1 Corinthians 6:7 1Timothy 1:10, and Romans 1), we would need NO interpretation. A person who works as a BLACKSMITH is obviously doing something wrong in this example. It has nothing to do with how he/she was born or was nurtured; it has to do with what he/she does. A person can be born with proclivities toward being a BLACKSMITH, may have the talent to become a BLACKSMITH, and may even be nurtured and trained as a BLACKSMITH, but then he still has a choice to become a BLACKSMITH by taking on the role of a BLACKSMITH. A person can be born with a predisposition to alcohol and be in an environment that encourages drinking, and still choose not to drink. I see homosexuality as the same thing – being active in a lifestyle is different from having certain temptations that may lead to that lifestyle.

The Apple here is the dietrary laws; the orange is the “shall not inherit the Kingdom of Heaven” situations (to include HOMOSEXUALITY), and Pear is the questionable one of silence for women. They are all to be treated Hermeneutically differently, but the Oranges are black-and-white, and only the apples and pears are gray. If we cannot draw a line at homosexuality as sin with such black-and-white language as there is in the NT concerning HOMOSEXUALITY and other sins (1 Corinthians 6:7; 1Timothy 1:10, and Romans 1), then is it even possible to draw a line that defines sin? I think not. And if there is no way to define sin, then “let us eat and drink; for tomorrow we die (Romans 15:32).”

Joe Stains (from his Facebook page):

Church-related friends are most likely to recognize the connection to this essay I wrote in response to an article recently distributed by Dr. Steven Tuell of Reconciling Ministries. It is part of an ongoing dialogue. Anyone interested is welcome to read.


In mid-May the Reconciling Ministries Network of Western Pennsylvania posted a positional article on use of scripture by Dr. Steven Tuell, a professor at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, in response to an article by Dr. Jeff Greenway of the Wesley Covenant Association.

This article is a response to Dr. Tuell’s, with concern for a balanced overview of scriptural interpretation in general, and its application to the current, pressing issue before our church and society regarding LGBT acceptance. Many credentialed writers have presented on all sides of these issues, after all, and the conversation must continue.

When the passages Dr. Tuell cites, and the issues they represent, are viewed in a larger context of covenant history, we find different implications from those offered in his article.

Mosaic law was variously civil, ceremonial, and moral. Its revisions came with major, covenant-altering episodes:

1) Execution of Old-Testament civil penalties essentially ended with the Babylonian invasion. Thus, for instance, the Sanhedrin needed Rome to crucify Jesus.

2) Second Isaiah’s new allowances for permission to enter the envisioned New Temple were based on his new
understanding of Israel’s divine purpose in history—a light to the nations (Isaiah 49:6, 60:1-3); a house of prayer for all people who hold fast to the Lord’s covenant (Isaiah 56:4-8).

3) Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection introduced the radical New Covenant—the ultimately worldwide Kingdom of God. Ceremonial law became obsolete. He declared all foods clean. Sabbath obedience was re-oriented. Discussions about vengeance were about its morality rather than civil legitimacy; Moses restricted it, and Jesus went to the motive, offering a counter-approach for New Covenant disciples.

4) With respect to moral law, however, Jesus’ teachings—especially in Matthew 5—actually raised the bar for his followers. The consistent principle there took obedience from outward action to inward motive. Thus those innocent of actual murder are not off the hook while harboring malice, those innocent of actual adultery must still answer for harboring lust, etc. Men (the only ones allowed at the time to divorce) had no moral right to cut loose their wives except for adultery. Those teaching to relax the moral code “will be called least in the kingdom of heaven.” Those not embracing the higher moral bar “will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Dr. Tuell goes on to suggest that the Church already has co-opted practices contrary to scripture in positions regarding divorce, Christian sabbath, and female leadership. It would be redundant to re-articulate the biblical and theological bases for these practices, which long-since have been made in other venues. In brief observation, though:

1) Divorce by any measure is a consequence of our fallenness. Jesus accepts divorce in the case of unfaithfulness (Matt. 5:32); but it is always, as our Discipline also states, a tragic result of our human brokenness. Conscientious believers recovering from it testify to recovery from sin that induced the divorce before being ready for a new start.

2) Christian choice of Sabbath is based on Jesus’ identity as Lord of the Sabbath (Mark 2:27f), the consistent practice of Christians to gather on the first day of the week, (eg. Luke 24 and John 20, Acts 20:7, I Corinthians 16:1f.}, the omission of Jewish Sabbath in the letter to Gentile Christians in Acts 15, and the dismissal of preoccupation with the issue, Colossians 2:7. Effectively, only Jewish Christians in the New Testament observed Jewish Sabbath.

3) Scriptural references regarding female leadership are not unilateral. Dr. Tuell mentioned only the situational
passages against it, sans the balancing references in its favor, eg. Judges 4:4,8f.; Romans 16:1-2; and Joel 2:28f. (quoted also by Peter in Acts 2:17f.).

Dr. Tuell cites these perceived contradictions as if to suggest that, since we have already taken liberty with these issues, we are now free to take it wherever we choose. These are not compelling analogies to the “elephant in the room”, as Dr. Tuell dubs it.

First, to be clear, the issue at hand is not about whether practicing homosexuals have been in pews. Nor is it about whether we are called to love people in spite of sin. The questions are:

1) Is homosexual practice sin?
2) If so, is it of a kind that precludes one from Christian leadership?

Tradition and the historical weight of scriptural interpretation say yes to both, evidenced by the consistency of Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and pre-20th Century Protestant positions on the matter. Wherever the practice is explicitly mentioned in scripture (mainly Leviticus, I Corinthians, and Romans), it is described with unambiguous repugnance, across over a thousand years, from Jewish distinction as God’s people to Gentile Christian witness in a morally pluralistic culture. The revisionist view has arisen in the 20th-century West, in the context of the Sexual Revolution’s new ethic, and the desire of the Western church to recover former rapprochement with the increasingly secularized ambient culture. It is the revisionists’ contrast to this historically consistent exegetic—not simplistic conservative interpretation—that raises the WCA’s question about revisionist priority for biblical faithfulness.

There are widely-accepted boundaries around eligibility for Christian leadership. No church is likely to publicly endorse leaders known for present drunkenness, theft, gambling, or racism, for instance. In the realm of sexual practice, there also are boundaries honored by consensus: practicing adultery, polygamy, marriage to relatives, nonmarital relations, relations with animals, to name some. Most of these are biblically based, as is homosexual practice. If we make a singular exception for homosexual practice, we need a strong theological rationale for doing so. The culture has already started asking us about some of the others. If we pass on one, on what grounds do we continue to exclude the next?

Further, rearranging historically-accepted boundaries of moral behavior also should come with a watershed redefinition of covenant identity as it has in the past, on the scale of Temple destruction and exile in the Old Testament, or the Resurrection of Jesus in the New. Even in those critical events, it was ceremonial and civil—not moral frameworks—that were revised. Against the magnitude of those events, the Sexual Revolution or the affluent West’s cultural drift do not appear to stand tall.

One of the things seekers want deeply to know from Christians is what a godly ethical framework for living looks like. Many are earnestly willing to change much—sacrificially—in their lives to be closer to God. Traditionalists and revisionists agree on much of what this framework is. And most agree that we do people more good with clarity, and rescue from evil, than from redefining the boundaries of fidelity. The disagreement is not about whether to have boundaries, but rather about whether/where to shift them.

A deeper dialogue on what compassionate consistency looks like is our best hope for restored cogency of our witness in these confusing times.



The Truth in the Bible

This Thursday, May 25, is Ascension Day.  On this day, we remember when, as the disciples watched, Jesus was taken out of their sight, and into heaven (Luke 24:50-51). In the Gospel reading for this day, Jesus tells his followers:

“These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the Law from Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled.”  Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures (Luke 24:44-45).

Here, Jesus calls to mind all three parts of the Hebrew Bible: Torah (the Law, or the books of Moses), Nebi’im (the Prophets), and Kethubim (the Writings, including the Psalms).  It seems unlikely that Jesus was speaking of specific texts pointing to himself.  Rather it seems that the whole of Scripture finds its fulfillment–its truth–in the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus.

The truth of Scripture is much on my mind this week.  The following is an open letter that I wrote, posted this week, responding to the Wesleyan Covenant Association’s statement, “The Bible is true.” I offer it for your consideration, particularly for my fellow United Methodist Christians as we prayerfully consider the future of our church.

Dear sisters and brothers,

As an Old Testament scholar who loves the Bible and whose ministry is devoted to studying and teaching Scripture, I have been most concerned about and interested by the middle of the Wesleyan Covenant Association’s tagline: “God is good, the Bible is true, promises should be kept.” Of course “the Bible is true,” if what we mean by that is that the Bible points us to Jesus, who is the truth (John 14:6). But people of faith often disagree on what particular Bible passages mean, or how they should best be applied. Does “the Bible is true” mean that only one way of reading Scripture leads to truth?

Rev. Jeff Greenway, a leader in the WCA, has recently posted a statement about Scripture on their web page, unpacking this claim ( His post indeed does seems to say, not only that the WCA’s reading of the Bible is the only right one, but that those who read the Bible differently don’t really care about the Bible at all. I do read the Bible differently than Rev. Greenway, yet I do love the Lord and the Bible—so I must say that I do not recognize myself in his post. Further, I do not believe that he, or anyone else in his movement, actually reads Scripture in the way that this post claims.

Rev. Greenway states, “The Bible clearly tells us that there are some things we should do, and some things we should not do, and consequences for both.” This is of course correct. But he goes on to say that “Somehow in the last forty years, our Western culture has decided that God’s Word and his will for us is no longer the truth.” Actually, however, questions about how to discern God’s will in Scripture began long before forty years ago. Some of those clear biblical statements are already called into question in the Bible itself, without denying either God or the force of God’s will. To take only two examples:

In Isaiah 56:3-5, the prophet includes eunuchs—men castrated by the Babylonians (see 2 Kings 20:18//Isaiah 39:7)—in the worshipping congregation, even though Deuteronomy 23:1 says that they are to be barred. The prophet does not deny the truth of God’s word, or the importance of the Law; rather, the heart and spirit of the Law (these are “eunuchs who keep my sabbaths, choose what I desire, and remain loyal to my covenant;” Isa 56:4 [CEB]) matters more to him than its letter.

In Matthew 5:21-48, Jesus says, six times, “You have heard it said,” quotes a passage from the Scriptures, and then declares, “but I say”—going so far as to set aside the law of retribution in Exodus 21:24, and the law concerning divorce in Deuteronomy 24:1-4. Yet Jesus too affirms the Law and the Prophets, saying “I haven’t come to do away with them but to fulfill them” (Matt 5:17 [CEB]).

Rev. Greenway says of those who (like me) read the Bible differently, “Some believe that those Scriptures that no longer conform to the norms of modern society are obsolete and without meaning. In essence, they want the church to proclaim to the world that in some places in Scripture, God got it wrong.” Yet the texts we have just considered both reinterpreted the Law for a new context (the time after the return from exile in Isaiah, first-century Judea under Roman rule in Matthew) without declaring the Law “obsolete and without meaning,” or saying that “God got it wrong.”

Rev. Greenway quotes from the NIV of 2 Timothy 3:16: “All Scripture is God-breathed [the Greek has a rare word, theopneustos, usually translated “inspired by God”]”—implying that the words of Scripture are God’s actual words, fixed and unchangeable. But that is plainly not how Jesus, or the prophet, or anyone of faith in ancient times read Scripture. Indeed, as the rather modest claims the author of 2 Timothy actually makes about Scripture reveal, he did not mean to suggest this either: “Every scripture is inspired by God and is useful [not, note, perfect, or infallible, or unchangeable, but “useful”] for teaching, for showing mistakes, for correcting, and for training character, so that the person who belongs to God can be equipped to do everything that is good” (2 Tim 3:16 [CEB]).

Indeed, none of us (including Rev. Greenway) actually read Scripture in this literal sense, applying it uncritically to our lives. All of us interpret Scripture for our contexts, and apply it selectively. So, we Christians worship on Sunday because we choose to honor our Lord by worshipping on “the Lord’s day” (Rev 1:10), the day of Jesus’ resurrection—but in so doing (particularly if we do yard work on Saturday!), we violate Sabbath law (for example, Deut 5:12-15). If we enjoy ham or crab cakes, we violate dietary law (see Leviticus 11). If we accept or charge interest on loans, we violate some of the Bible’s fundamental economic principles (for example, Exod 22:25; Deut 23:19-20; Ezek 18:8). We Christians might dismissively say that that is all Old Testament stuff, and that we live by the New Testament —but then, we are even more caught in a bind! The Gospels advocate a lifestyle of radical renunciation of the world–how many of us are prepared to “go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor” (Matt 19:21)? Jesus, as we have noted, explicitly condemns divorce and re-marriage (Matt 5:31-32; see also Matt 19:3-9//Mark 10:1-12 and Luke 16:18), as does Paul (1 Cor 7:10-16). But our United Methodist Discipline upholds this practice—and how many of us truly believe that all divorced and remarried people are living in sin? The WCA affirms with all United Methodists the place of women in ordained ministry—but that too is a position contrary to the clear teaching of Scripture (for example, 1 Cor 14:33-36; 1 Tim 2:8-15). The point is that we can, and do, read and apply Scripture attentive to our context as well as the context of the biblical witness—without cheapening our respect or love for God or the Bible.

The unmentioned elephant in the room is hinted at by Rev. Greenway’s often stated “forty years” (with reference perhaps to the 1972 Book of Discipline, when the sentence, “The United Methodist Church does not condone the practice of homosexuality and considers this practice incompatible with Christian teaching” [¶ 161F, p. 111] first appeared?). What is the church to do about LGBTQ persons: in our pews, in our pulpits, and more broadly, about the legalization of same-sex marriage in every state of our republic? We cannot simply point at the Bible and say “God said it, I believe it, that settles it.” Consistency and honesty demand that we treat the biblical statements on this issue no differently than we do other texts. It is my prayer that we can study together, carefully and prayerfully, attentive as Rev. Greenway rightly says to our tradition, but also applying our God-given reason, and listening to the experiences of our sisters and brothers. We may not ever agree in full. But perhaps we can find sufficient concord in the Holy Spirit and Holy Scripture to recognize one another as sisters and brothers.

God’s peace,

Steven Tuell
Pittsburgh Theological Seminary


From Bishop William Boyd Grove, who ordained me, and will always be my Bishop:

On this date, May 24, 1738, which is 280 years ago, John Wesley had his heart warming experience at a prayer meeting in Aldersgate Street in London. He wrote in his journal, ‘At a quarter before nine, while someone was reading Martin Luther’s Preface to the Letter to the Romans, I felt my heart strangely warmed, and did trust that Christ had saved me from the law of sin and death.’ That experience produced a harvest; the Methodist Movement and the Methodist Church.


Mother’s Day, and a Woman’s Place

This Sunday is Mother’s Day–the second Mother’s Day since my Mom, Mary Louise Tuell, joined the Church Triumphant.  My mother was a deeply loving, very shy woman.  Yet her love for people, and her love for the Lord, overcame her shyness.  I never think of my Mom without remembering her favorite passage of Scripture, 1 John 4:18:

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.

Because of God’s perfect love burning in her heart, Mom overcame her fears, and went back to school to become a Registered Nurse.  She was a leader in our local church, responsible for starting our prayer chain (a ministry that is still going strong), and a persistent voice for outreach ministry.  Because of her example, Mother’s Day has become, for me, a reminder of God’s call to and through faithful women.


We at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary were honored this week to have the new Bishop of the Western PA Conference, Rev. Cynthia Moore-Koikoi,  on our campus.  Bishop Moore-Koikoi preached, taught, prayed over our graduating seniors, and shared insights with our community.

In a question and answer session over lunch, she reflected sadly that there were pastors in our conference preaching and teaching that women ought not be in our pulpits, or in positions of leadership.  This despite the fact that since 1956 (the year that I was born), the (then) Methodist Church has been ordaining women, a practice expressly continued in 1968 when the Methodist and Evangelical United Brethren churches joined to form the United Methodist Church.

Indeed, Methodist women have been in ministry since the birth of our movement.  Although he faced severe criticism for doing so, John Wesley himself gave permission for Sarah Mallet to preach in 1787, holding her to standards no different than those expected of all Methodist lay preachers.

Pioneering, dynamic Methodist preachers such as Jarena Lee were recognized as evangelists or local pastors, even though they were mostly barred from ordination in the various denominations that would form the United Methodist Church (the former United Brethren being an occasional exception).

Jarena Lee has been particularly on my mind in recent days.  A letter supporting Bishop Karen Olivetto from her alma mater, Drew Theological Seminary, contained these stirring words:

We are reminded of that powerful moment in the early 19th century when Jarena Lee went to Bishop Richard Allen of the AME Church to ask him to license her to preach. Bishop Allen told Lee no, that the Book of Discipline ‘did not call for women preachers.’ In response, Lee prophesied, ‘O how careful ought we to be, lest through our by-laws of church government and discipline, we bring into disrepute even the word of life.’

That, of course, is the rub.  I suspect that those preachers to whom Bishop Moore-Koikoi referred in her remarks would object rather stringently that they are following (as they would put it), “not the traditions of man, but the Word of God.”  They have a point, of course:  1 Timothy 2:8-15 denies women the right to preach or lead, because “Adam wasn’t deceived, but rather his wife became the one who stepped over the line because she was completely deceived” (1 Tim 2:14).

The problem is, that is actually not what Genesis 3 says at all.  There, the man and the woman alike (as well as the snake!) are held accountable for their actions.

Indeed, from the very beginning of the Bible, women and men are alike affirmed.  Where the King James Version of Genesis 1:26 has God say, “Let us make man,” the Common English Bible has “Let us make humanity” (Gen 1:26).   This is not, as some might claim, political correctness, but accurate translation. In Hebrew, if I want to say “man,” I can say it: the word for “man” is ‘ish. But the word used here is not ‘ish but ‘adam, which means not “man” but “humanity.”  It is particularly important that we translate ‘adam correctly, because Genesis 1:27 goes on very plainly to state:

God created humanity [adam] in God’s own image,
in the divine image God created them,
male and female God created them.

Both masculinity and femininity, both maleness and femaleness, are reflections of God in this text. There is no basis here for placing women under men. To be sure, Israel’s traditions were not always equal to this insight!  Yet here it is, at the very beginning of the Bible.  Sexism has no place in God’s rightly ordered world.

The Old Testament is filled with surprising stories about strong women taking the lead.  Miriam, Moses’ sister, was a prophet (see Micah 6:4, which describes Miriam alongside Moses and Aaron as leading the Israelites to freedom). The prophet Deborah (Judges 4-5) unites the tribes of Israel against their enemies. Ruth, a poor Moabite widow, takes the first step in proclaiming her love to Boaz, and becomes the ancestress of King David.  Esther risks her position and her life to stand up for her persecuted people.

In the Gospels, Jesus continually demonstrates concern for women.  John’s gospel describes the remarkable story of the Samaritan woman who meets Jesus at the well, talks with him, and becomes the first missionary! Jesus’ movement was supported by women (Luke 8:2-3).  At the end, even when his disciples had forsaken him, the women remained, at the cross and at the tomb, so that it was women who were the first eyewitnesses to the resurrection.

In the letters of Paul, everywhere that the apostle offers personal greetings, he mentions women, by name.  Romans 16 provides several fascinating examples: Paul greets Phoebe, who he calls a deacon (the CEB reads “servant,” but notice that this is the same Greek title given in Acts to male leaders like Philip and Stephen), Prisca and Aquila (a husband and wife ministry team; here as elsewhere, Paul breaks convention by mentioning the wife, Prisca, first), Mary, and most remarkably, Andronicus and Junia, another husband and wife team who are “prominent among the apostles”–Paul refers to Junia here as an apostle!

In 1 Corinthians 11:2-16, Paul insists that Corinthian women follow custom by wearing a head covering while prophesying: emphasizing a distinction between women and men.  Still, this passage presupposes that women were speaking in the churches–Paul just wants them to do so respectfully!

Most remarkable of all is Paul’s bold proclamation in Galatians 3:28: “There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor free; nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”  Since, for Paul, all of us have access to God through Jesus and Jesus alone, every earthly hierarchy has been overthrown.  All of us approach God on an equal footing, women and men alike.

Viewed in the context of the whole of Scripture, then, we can understand the attitudes expressed in 1 Timothy 2:8-15 without feeling bound by them.  Jarena Lee’s prophetic words refute biblical as well as Disciplinary legalism.  I know that a woman’s place is in the pulpit because I have known and heard women preachers, and found them to be inspired by the Holy Spirit.


It is a point of pride for me as a West Virginia United Methodist to celebrate, and share with you, the origins of Mother’s Day:


I Have Come to Love the Darkness

Thomas doesn’t get a lot of respect.  If someone calls you a “doubting Thomas,” you can bet that they aren’t complimenting your critical acumen!  A “doubting Thomas” is foolishly skeptical, rejecting a truth that is apparent to everyone else–like Thomas, missing the resurrection.

No, Thomas doesn’t get a lot of respect: except from Jesus!  Jesus never condemns Thomas.  Indeed, Jesus shows up, specifically, for Thomas.  Jesus invites Thomas to touch him, to put his finger into the wounds of crucifixion that his glorified body still bears–to experience directly the reality of Jesus’ resurrection.  For Jesus, Thomas’ doubts are not the problem they may be for us.

But why should doubt be a problem for us?  After all, people of God in all times and places have known that faith and doubt are not opposites: indeed, deep faith and profound doubt can occupy the same heart.

In just a few weeks, we Methodists will remember May 24, 1738, when John Wesley’s heart was “strangely warmed” at Aldersgate, and he knew the assurance that Christ “had taken away my sins, even mine.”  Yet in 1766, years after Aldersgate, Wesley wrote in a letter to his brother Charles,

“[I do not love God. I never did]. Therefore [I never] believed, in the Christian sense of the word. Therefore [I am only an] honest heathen, a proselyte of the Temple.” 

The parts in brackets were written in the Wesleys’ private shorthand–as though, even in a private letter to his brother, John was deeply ashamed of this confession!  John Wesley had doubts.

Saint Teresa of Calcutta was famed for her life of selfless service to the poorest of the poor in Calcutta’s slums.  Yet, in letters she wrote to her confessors and superiors, published after her death,  she revealed the depth of her personal struggles with doubt, darkness and fear:

Please pray for me—the longing for God is terribly painful and yet the darkness is becoming greater. What contradiction there is in my soul.—The pain within is so great—that I really don’t feel anything for all the publicity and the talk of the people. Please ask Our Lady to be my Mother in this darkness. 

Mother Teresa had doubts.

None of this should be any surprise to followers of the crucified Lord, who cried out from the cross,

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? (Mark 15:34//Matt 27:45).

Even Jesus had doubts.

Our problem with doubt may actually be a problem with faith.  We are likely to confuse “belief,” that is, intellectual assent to a concept, with “faith:” the commitment of one’s life.  After all, “doubt” and “belief” are opposites.  If faith is belief, then, doubt is an obstacle to faith in God!  But what if faith is not belief?

Our Bible translators don’t help us much!  Throughout this Sunday’s Gospel reading (John 20:19-31), the Greek verb pisteuo is translated as “believe”which can be the sense of this verb, but it would better be rendered, “have faith.”  Nineteenth-century Bible scholar Joseph Henry Thayer wrote that pisteuo expresses “the conviction and trust to which a man is impelled by a certain inner and higher prerogative and law of his soul.”

Deuteronomy 6:4 has for generations been a confession of faith for Judaism.  Traditionally, it has been rendered as “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord.” But it is better translated, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.”  Similarly, the Latin verb credo, from which we get our word “creed,” doesn’t mean, as it is usually rendered, “I believe,” but rather, “I set my heart upon.” The difference, as church historian Diana Butler Bass observes, is “a shift from information about to experience of.”  Indeed, in her revolutionary book Christianity After Religion,  she writes:

A great modern heresy of the Church is the heresy of believing. Christianity was never intended to be a system or structure of belief in the modern sense; it originated as a disposition of the heart.

The lectionary texts for this second Sunday of Easter drive this point home.  So, Psalm 16:4-5 is not about abstract theologizing, but about making a choice: committing to the LORD, rather than to “another god.” The Psalmist writes, “The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.”  That is, I have placed all my eggs in this basket!  I am all in on the LORD–and have experienced God’s goodness myself.

In 1 Peter, the genuineness of our faith (1:7), tested and proven like gold in a smelter’s furnace, is revealed not in our beliefs about Jesus, but our love for Jesus:

Although you’ve never seen him, you love him. Even though you don’t see him now, you trust him and so rejoice with a glorious joy that is too much for words. You are receiving the goal of your faith: your salvation (1 Peter 1:8-9).

Can doubt and faith indeed live together, in the same heart?  In same letter where John Wesley says, “[I never] believed, in the Christian sense of the word,” he also affirms, “I find rather an increase than a decrease of zeal for the whole work of God and every part of it,” and urges his brother Charles, “O insist everywhere on full redemption, receivable by faith alone; consequently, to be looked for now.”

So too, Mother Teresa could write,

I have come to love the darkness. – For I believe now that it is a part, a very, very small part of Jesus’ darkness & pain on earth. 

We are, to say the least, uncomfortable with darkness, in our own lives, or in someone else’s.  As Donald Gowan ruefully observes,

Christian worship tends to be all triumph, all good news (even the confession of sin is not a very awesome experience because we know the assurance of pardon is coming; it’s printed in the bulletin). And what does that say to those who, at the moment, know nothing of triumph? 

But when tragedy strikes (as, inevitably, it will), we have no use for Pollyanna optimism, for shallow, saccharine assurances that all will be well.   In this Easter season, may we, like Thomas, discover that the glorified, risen Jesus still bears the wounds of the cross.  This triumphant Jesus is the same Jesus who on the cross cried out in his despair.  The Easter Jesus of light and glory is the same Jesus who descended into the darkness of death–both his, and ours.  Jesus enters into the midst of our struggle, loss, pain—and yes, even our doubt!—to show us that God is with us even there – perhaps, especially there.  In our own times of doubt and struggle, may God’s Spirit reveal Christ right alongside us, and enable us to say, with St. Teresa, “I have come to love the darkness.”


Thanks to pastors Scott Shaffer and Ben Phipps, and to the people of Faith UMC, for inviting me to preach and worship with them this week!




April 16: Easter Sunday

After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.  And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it.  His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow.  For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men.  But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.  Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.”  So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples.  Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him.  Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me” (Matthew 28:1-10).


Holy Saturday: In Between

Holy Saturday, April 15

I am one who has seen affliction
under the rod of God’s wrath;
 he has driven and brought me
into darkness without any light;
 against me alone he turns his hand,
again and again, all day long.

He has made my flesh and my skin waste away,
and broken my bones;
 he has besieged and enveloped me
with bitterness and tribulation;
 he has made me sit in darkness
like the dead of long ago.

 He has walled me about so that I cannot escape;
he has put heavy chains on me;
 though I call and cry for help,
he shuts out my prayer;
 he has blocked my ways with hewn stones,
he has made my paths crooked.

The thought of my affliction and my homelessness
is wormwood and gall!
My soul continually thinks of it
and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul,
‘therefore I will hope in him’”
(Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-24). ,

This reading from Lamentations is an odd passage, beginning in despair (“he has driven and brought me into darkness without any light”), yet ending in hope (“ ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him’”). As such, it is perfectly appropriate for Holy Saturday, this odd, in-between day in the church calendar bridging the sorrow of Good Friday and the rejoicing of Easter Sunday. Early Christians wondered what Jesus was doing on this day between death and resurrection. 1 Peter 3:18-20 declares, “He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is eight persons, were saved through water.”

The idea that after his death Jesus proclaimed the Gospel to souls in the underworld led in turn to the tradition of the harrowing of Hell: the notion that the risen Christ triumphantly descended to the underworld to deliver the righteous who had died before his coming into heaven. By around the eighth century, this confession was incorporated into the Apostles Creed; most Christians today recite the phrase “He descended into hell” or “He descended to the dead” as part of the Creed (although many United Methodists follow the Church of England in not doing so). Whatever we may think of this confession, it recognizes that Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection transform all space and time, bringing salvation not only to those of us who live on this side of Easter, but to all the generations who lived before.

Prayer: Jesus, we know this place well: this Holy Saturday zone of ambiguity and unresolved tension. Many of our people feel trapped in just such a place of uncertainty. Help us to see your victorious life bringing possibility even into these shadow lands, and give us hope that we will be delivered into your marvelous light. This is our prayer in your own glorious name, Amen.


Pope Francis has said of Holy Saturday:

The day of God’s silence–invites us not only to solidarity with all who are abandoned and alone, but also to trust in that faithful love which turns death into life.

May this be so for all of us.

Thank you to the Anti-Racism Team of the Western Pennsylvania Annual Conference, who invited me to prepare these devotions, especially to my old friend Bob Wilson, who carefully read and faithfully critiqued each one, and to all of you who have walked with me through these Lenten meditations.  God bless you.


Week 7: Holy Week “The Way of the Servant”: The Way of Suffering



Good Friday, April 14

See, my servant shall prosper;
he shall be exalted and lifted up,
and shall be very high.
Just as there were many who were astonished at him
—so marred was his appearance, beyond human semblance,
and his form beyond that of mortals—
so he shall startle many nations;
kings shall shut their mouths because of him;
for that which had not been told them they shall see,
and that which they had not heard they shall contemplate.
Who has believed what we have heard?
And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
For he grew up before him like a young plant,
and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
 He was despised and rejected by others;
a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity;
and as one from whom others hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him of no account.

 Surely he has borne our infirmities
and carried our diseases;
yet we accounted him stricken,
struck down by God, and afflicted.
 But he was wounded for our transgressions,
crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that made us whole,
and by his bruises we are healed.
 All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have all turned to our own way,
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.
 By a perversion of justice he was taken away.
Who could have imagined his future?
For he was cut off from the land of the living,
stricken for the transgression of my people.
 They made his grave with the wicked
and his tomb with the rich,
although he had done no violence,
and there was no deceit in his mouth.

Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him with pain.
When you make his life an offering for sin,
he shall see his offspring, and shall prolong his days;
through him the will of the Lord shall prosper.
     Out of his anguish he shall see light;
he shall find satisfaction through his knowledge.
The righteous one, my servant, shall make many righteous,
and he shall bear their iniquities.
Therefore I will allot him a portion with the great,
and he shall divide the spoil with the strong;
because he poured out himself to death,
and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
and made intercession for the transgressors
(Isa 52:13—53:12).

With the fourth Servant Song, we come to the end of Second Isaiah’s exploration of the way of the Servant. Now, we can at last see what the prophet has been up to in these Songs, as he pulls his many themes together into this final poetic masterpiece. The hiddenness of the Servant’s destiny is a consistent theme of the Songs, but the hidden work of the Servant is most powerfully expressed in this final Servant Song, where the nations look on the Servant in bewilderment: “he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him” (53:2). But the major theme of this fourth and final Song is the Servant’s suffering:

He was despised and rejected by others;

a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity;

and as one from whom others hide their faces

he was despised, and we held him of no account (53:3).

Christian readers have long seen the Servant of the Lord as Jesus. In Acts 8:32-35, when the Ethiopian eunuch asks if the prophet in Isaiah 53 speaks “about himself or about someone else,” Philip wastes no time in sharing with him “the good news about Jesus.” In 1 Peter 2:22-25, that writer alludes freely to the fourth Song, declaring of Jesus “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth. When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that, free from sins, we might live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. For you were going astray like sheep, but now you have returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.”  

Certainly, no Christian reader can consider today’s passage without remembering Jesus’ passion. But even the writer of 1 Peter, who sees Jesus’ cross in Isaiah 53, does not therefore think that we are relieved of the responsibility for walking in this way ourselves. Indeed, he writes, “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps” (1 Peter 2:21). The apostle Paul as well understood this: indeed he could say, “I have been crucified with Christ” (Gal 2:19). In Wednesday’s prayer, we remembered that the writer of Hebrews calls Jesus “the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame” (Heb 12:2). What might it mean for us to follow such a pioneer—to, in the words of the old Gospel hymn, “go with him, with him, all the way”?

Prayer: O Jesus, we do indeed want to go with you—but we are afraid of where your path leads. Remind us, as you reminded your first disciples, that your way of service is a way of life, not of death. O God, give us the courage to stand where you stand, alongside the oppressed, and to take up our cross, that we might inherit Christ’s eternal, invincible life. In the name of the Crucified, Amen.


Week 7: Holy Week “The Way of the Servant”: The Passover

Maundy Thursday, April 13

“The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt:  This month shall mark for you the beginning of months; it shall be the first month of the year for you.  Tell the whole congregation of Israel that on the tenth of this month they are to take a lamb for each family, a lamb for each household.  If a household is too small for a whole lamb, it shall join its closest neighbor in obtaining one; the lamb shall be divided in proportion to the number of people who eat of it. Your lamb shall be without blemish, a year-old male; you may take it from the sheep or from the goats.  You shall keep it until the fourteenth day of this month; then the whole assembled congregation of Israel shall slaughter it at twilight.  They shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it.  They shall eat the lamb that same night; they shall eat it roasted over the fire with unleavened bread and bitter herbs.  Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted over the fire, with its head, legs, and inner organs.  You shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn.  This is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it hurriedly. It is the passover of the Lord.  For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike down every firstborn in the land of Egypt, both human beings and animals; on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord.  The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt. This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance” (Exod 12:1-14)    

All four Gospels connect Jesus’ last week on earth with Passover. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus’ last supper with his followers is a Passover meal (Matt 26:17-19; Mark 14:12-16; Luke 22:7-13). In John’s Gospel, Jesus is crucified on “the day of Preparation,” when the Passover lamb was slain (John 19:14). Pesach (the Jewish term for Passover) recalls the Exodus from Egypt; however, this meal is more than a memorial of Israel’s deliverance. As Jewish philosopher Emil Fackenheim understood (Emil Fackenheim, God’s Presence in History: Jewish Affirmations and Philosophical Reflections [New York: Harper and Row, 1972]), Pesach reenacts and reaffirms Israel’s root experience: the deliverance from bondage at the Red Sea that made them a people.

So too, when we Christians break the bread and share the cup, we reenact and reaffirm our root experience in Christ: it is as though we are there, with Jesus, at his final meal. We not only remember his death, we experience it—and the resurrection life that follows. Jesus’ last meal with his followers becomes a foretaste of the messianic banquet in the new age, to which we are also invited. But, as Jesus grimly warns, “I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the heirs of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matt 8:11-12). As we saw in our first week, in Joel 2:28-29, the body of Christ is larger than the small circle of those like us. Moreover, the table is Christ’s, not ours; we should be leery of presuming to bar from it those whom Jesus invites. May the Lord’s Supper truly be for us the Lord’s Supper, and not ours, where we can meet sisters and brothers we did not know that we had!

Prayer: “Eternal God, in the sharing of a meal
your son established a new covenant for all people,
and in the washing of feet
he showed us the dignity of service.
Grant that by the power of your Holy Spirit
these signs of our life in faith
may speak again to our hearts,
feed our spirits, and refresh our bodies.” In Jesus’ name, Amen.(Reprinted from Revised Common Lectionary Prayers, copyright © 2002 Consultation on Common Texts).