A common thread in this week’s readings is God’s restoration. In Joshua, God says, “Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.” David sings of the freedom appropriated by his confession: “You surround me with glad cries of deliverance.” He continues, personifying God and urging his listener to willfully submit to the Lord’s inspection and correction. Paul echoes David: “We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.” Finally, Our Savior strikes the grace note with a story alternatively titled The Expectant Father, a story well summarized in its last line: “We had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

God’s restoration is one which removes the disgrace of the past. The evils afflicted on us by others, the evils we afflict on ourselves, “everything… has passed away; see, everything has become new!” That which once was dead is now alive.

God’s is a perfect and eternal restoration. It leaves no trace of the past. Manna appears no more; we now dine on the fruit of the Promised Land. The old is gone with its “dissolute living,” and in its place is new life, a cause for much celebrating and rejoicing.

God’s is a restoration appropriated by faith and accepted in humility. There is a musical adaptation of Psalm 32 that captures this well. Its tune is slow and melancholy. It serves well to temper the joy and gladness of our restoration with a somber call to remember the past from which we’ve been freed. Even after entering the Promised Land, the Israelites continued to keep the Passover so they would not forget the “disgrace of Egypt.”

Finally, God’s is a vocational restoration. It carries with it a charge: God is “entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.” Having taken hold of our restoration in Christ, we become “ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us.” Ultimately, we are charged to sing like David.

ACTION:

Make some plain, burnt toast. In lieu of toast, use stale white bread or even plain rice cakes. The toast symbolizes “the disgrace of Egypt.”

On a breezy spring morning, go out and find a windy spot. Take your toast and pray. Reflect briefly on disgraces from your past. Don’t work yourself into a tizzy; just remember. While you remember, chew on a bite or two (no more!) of your toast. Let it suck the moisture from your mouth as you remember how past moments have sucked the moisture from your soul.

Now, crumble the remaining toast in your hands. Grind it to a fine powder and pray the disgraces of your past into the crumbs. Offer the crumbs to God, and let the Wind of His Spirit blow away your disgraces. Thank God for a cleansed past. “Be glad in the LORD and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart.”

another facet of justice is explored by jason over at the grace lent blog (thursday, march 11th post). quoting:

But I like Tutu’s take on justice. He gleans it from the African notion of ubuntu: “the healing of breaches, the redressing of imbalances, the restoration of broken relationships” “Justice, restorative justice, is being served when efforts are being made to work for healing, for forgiveness, and for reconciliation.”

i think there is something to the more familiar notion of retributive justice, something that helps us understand the cross of christ. but let’s add to that. “shalom” is restorative. it is a peace born not out of the cessation of conflict, but rather out of the resolution of conflict. the former is not necessarily indicative of the latter, as the countless failed ceasefires across the world have shown.

the prophet has said: “he has shown thee, o man, what is good and what the lord requires of thee. but to do justly…” yet, god has also reserved vengeance for himself. is vengeance not retributive justice? and if god has reserved such justice for himself, how then are we to do justly? thru “the healing of breaches, the redressing of imbalances, the restoration of broken relationships. Justice…is being served when efforts are being made to work for healing, for forgiveness, and for reconciliation.”

let us not, then, concern ourselves with retribution. instead be grateful that god in his grace has dealt with that himself. let us take up our cross of restoration, for as st. paul reminds us, “we have been given a ministry of reconciliation.”

stewie offers a thought from one of my favorites.

this will likely be my only post until next week. tomorrow we head out to arlington for my father-in-law’s burial on friday. meanwhile i’d like to share a reflection on last week’s (revised common) lectionary texts in the context of rob’s death. first, from my journal:

nearly three days since rob has passed. they have been busy days with little time for tears. i must remember to stop and allow kerri her moment to cry when it comes.

she said something quite insightful. rob has slowly been dying for nearly fourteen years. the glory that is god’s, shining thru in his child, in this man fashioned in his own image, in this father, in this protector and provider, this glory has slowly faded as from moses. rob’s life under the old covenant – governed by law, limited by sin, ruled by death – has faded slowly; and we are just now able to grieve that loss. fourteen years of potential grief now made kinetic, set free.

this, however, is not the end. the old has passed, and a new covenant now rules over him, one that does not fade, one bound by eternity, powered by love, clothed in perfection.

so let us grieve but a little, for the new far surpasses the old. though we miss him, we know he lives.

second, at rob’s funeral service gabe shared some words from c. s. lewis. lewis equated the sufferings of this life with a mother’s labour pains. if the child is going to be born, then the mother must experience the pain of labour. likewise, if we are to be birthed into a new and everlasting life, then we must experience the labour pains of suffering in this life, and allow them to push us into the next.

on sunday, i attempted to connect all of these pieces (though not nearly as well as i think i am doing here).

death of any kind brings grief, even the death of those things in our life which we know must die – sin, immaturity, etc. death creates a void, and grief is the process of adapting to this void. so let’s not beat ourselves up when we feel grief, even when it is over a dying sin. take your moment to mourn…

and then move on.

boldly, as paul tells us, move forward and let the death of the old birth the new life of the new covenant in you. in this way, death by death – for we die a thousand little deaths, taking up our cross each day – we make up what is lacking in christ’s sufferings.

in this way, we move from glory to ever-lasting and ever-increasing glory.

in this way, we are made complete, and the fullness of the gospel is realized in us.

in this way, god’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven.

the transfiguration is a passage that has previously made little sense to me. i know have an interpretation: it is a baton-passing moment. moses and the old covenant executing a hand-off to jesus and the new. no longer are moses and the law god’s authoritative voice. “this is my son,” god affirms. “listen to him.”

by dying to the old and allowing these deaths to birth us into the new, we can say with peter, “it is good for us to be here with you.”

may we move from glory to ever-lasting glory.

Then Jesus entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling things there; and he said, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer’; but you have made it a den of robbers.” Every day he was teaching in the temple. The chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people kept looking for a way to kill him; but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were spellbound by what they heard.

much has been said about “mc-church,” purvayor of religious goods and services. the gospel is for (on?) sale. ministry is marketing, the bait with which we hook non-consumers.

“problems solved.”

“fortunes told.”

“answers given.”

tag lines accompanied by smiling jingles. the church has entered the marketplace, its goods lined up on the shelf. look, an endcap special on finding fulfilling relationships! two for one this week. no coupon necessary.

but jesus is coming. he is on his way, going door to door, driving out those who are selling things. the consumer-church consumes the church, that is the people. the promise of x-ray vision robs them blind. they had little, and even that has been taken.

but jesus remains in the church. he cleans house, and then he sets a table. he invites us to tarry, to converse, to pray. pray continually, for you are the temple in which he makes his dwelling. do not sell. do not consume. sit. share your story, and in so doing share in his story, share in history, share in eternity. sit and listen with ears that were once deafened by the ringing cash register. sit and watch with eyes once blinded by flashy adverts. sit.

sit.

sit, and pray.