It’s the first week of Lent, friends. How’s it going?
I’m not giving anything up this year but I’m reading Lent of Liberation by Cheri L. Mills. I’d be curious to hear about your rhythms this season if you’d like to share in the comments.
The first week of the homefulness zine series reflects on Matthew 13:51-52. Let’s dive in a bit more, shall we?
“Have you understood all this?”
They answered, “Yes.”
And Jesus said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”
Right after this, Jesus went to his hometown of Nazareth and his prophetic work was rejected. Rather than seeing his family and background as a reason to credit him and respond with curiosity, the people in the synagogue responded with fear.
I wonder if there is anything more intrinsically motivating than fear. Other motivators take some willpower and follow through but fear is instinctual, reactive, and immediate. No doubt the actions we take based on our fears often protect us from very real threats. It’s also true that our fear limits our imagination and capacity for curiosity.
So much of the church in America is driven by fear. We reject things both old and new from a place of fear that our faith and way of practicing it will be threatened. Like the people of Nazareth, we look toward others, even those who profess a faith in the same God as we do, with suspicion and disdain. They asked, “Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary? And are not his brothers James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? And are not all his sisters with us?”
These questions seem to say, “We know who raised him and we can’t believe he turned out like this. His family must be so embarrassed.”
For us, these questions might sound like, “Isn’t that how the Catholics pray? Weren’t these hymns written a long time ago? Doesn’t the New Testament tell us we don’t need the law of the Old Testament anymore? Does the Bible not clearly say that women shouldn’t preach?”
What ends up happening is we reject the wisdom so readily available to us and instead practice a faith that is at best narrow and afraid. At worst, it works itself out to be antisemitic, misogynistic, racist, homophobic, and bound by the time and space in which it is currently practiced.
In her book Holy Envy in which she reflects on 20 years of teaching world religions, Barbara Brown Taylor writes,
“Engaging in the faith of others will almost certainly cause you to lose faith in the old box you kept God in. The truths you glimpse in other religions are going to crowd up against some of your own. Holy envy may lead you to borrow some things, and you will need a place to put them. You may find spiritual guides outside your box whom you want to make room for, or some neighbors from other faiths who have stopped by for a visit. However it happens, your old box will turn out to be too small for who you have become. You will need a bigger one with more windows in it—something more like a home than a box, perhaps—where you can open the door to all kinds of people without fearing their faith will cancel yours out if you let them in. If things go well, they may invite you to visit them in their homes as well, so that your children can make friends.”
This is as true for people within our own religion as it is for those who practice another. And, unsurprisingly, I love her use of the idea of home here as a place where God resides, a place people come and go and make friends.
I wonder what a difference it would have made if the people of Nazareth had said something more like, “Well, he is the son of the carpenter we trust. I’m pretty sure his mother is Mary, and we’ve seen how she raised him to be thoughtful and kind. We also know his brothers and sisters who are trustworthy. Let’s go ask him some more questions about what he’s saying.”
This parable invites scribes who have become disciples (read: scholars who put their knowledge into practice) to respond with the same curiosity. “I wonder how this ancient pattern of prayer has shaped Christians for centuries? Do these hymns reflect that humans 200 years ago faced the same fears and struggles I do now? Judaism was Jesus’s own religion… I wonder if there’s more in the Old Testament for me than I thought. Jesus first revealed his resurrected body to women so maybe I could trust them too?”
In the words of Sarah Bessey, “God is much bigger, wilder, more generous, and more wonderful than you imagined.” Sometimes it can be as simple as pausing when fear threatens to motivate your response to something old, new, or different you don’t understand. Pause and ask… what am I afraid of? How can I be curious instead? What is something old, new, or different within me that I can use at this time to help me live as a disciple of Christ?
The Kingdom of God is a place of abundance. There’s no need for tiny boxes. Rooms upon rooms upon rooms with love and wisdom for us to steward and celebrate well.
In the comments, I’d love for us to chat this week about your thoughts about this parable and the questions in the zine (repeated below). Lent is a time to pray, fast, and give: how does this parable inspire you in one of those areas? What is something you’re curious about? This is a safe (and moderated) space to explore together.
What parts of your faith can you identify that fit into "old" and "new" categories and yet compliment one another?
Pray for eyes to see God's abundance in your life and how you might steward that for others.
Take time to explore scripture and write down a few verses/sections from the Old and New Testaments that encourage you in your endeavors to live in the now and not yet Kingdom of God.
May you find rest this week, knowing that God sees and loves all that is old and new within you. May the knowledge of your own belovedness inspire you to see it anew in someone else. And may the peace of Christ overwhelm any fear, leading you toward curiosity and hope.
Take care,
Janette
“This is as true for people within our own religion”.... love this, Jeanette! Oh and the beautiful, promised image of “rooms upon rooms upon rooms with love” ....
Sidenote: I inadvertently wound up listening to your podcast on planting and growth from this time last year in the private podcast feed. It spoke to me deeply – especially the Julian of Norwich quote. So, thank you for the gift of both of these wonderful reflections today. 🙏🏻💐
PS: apologies for dictation, misspelling your name! 😣