First Reading: Jeremiah 31:31-34
Psalm: Psalm 46
Second Reading: Romans 3:19-28
Gospel: John 8:31-36
In past years, before the pandemic, I might have written a meditation about reform and how we shouldn't be afraid of times of reformation. It's easy to write those kinds of words in gentle times, when we think we can control the pace of reform. Now we have not one, but two, wars in two different parts of the planet (Ukraine and Gaza), and one must wonder how this will all turn out. In times like these, it's easy to want to cling to a place where nothing changes, and it's understandable that so many of us would like that place to be church.
It's easy to be pro-Reformation when we're thinking about times of reformation in the past. It's also easy to remember the positive elements of those times of reformation while forgetting the upheaval that times of reformation can bring. Those of us who love elements of Celtic Christianity may have forgotten that we have those elements because of a time of Roman invasion and immigration. Those of us who have memorized all the words to "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" may have forgotten how that Martin Luther's ideas triggered centuries of destruction in the name of God.
We can take comfort from the knowledge that the Church has always been in the process of Reformation. There are great Reformations, like the one we'll celebrate this Sunday, or the Pentecostal revolution that's only 100 years old, but has transformed the developing world (third worlds and those slightly more advanced) in ways that Capitalism never could. There are smaller ones throughout the ages as well. Movements which seemed earth-shattering at the time--monastic movements of all kinds, liberation theology, ordination of women, lay leadership, same sex marriage--may in time come to be seen as something that enriches the larger church. Even gross theological missteps, like the Inquisition, can be survived. The Church learns from past mistakes as it moves forward.
Times of Reformation can nourish us all. Even those of us who reject reform can find our spiritual lives enriched as we take stock and measure what's important to us, what compromises we can make and what we can't. It's good to have these times where we return to the Scriptures as we try to hear what God calls us to do.
Once the dust settles, each of the previous time periods of Reformation has left the Church enriched, but enriched in ways that no one could have predicted--that's what makes it scary, after all. As we approach Reformation Sunday, I'd encourage each of us to tap our own inner Martin Luther. What is the Church doing well? What could be changed for the better? What part can we play?
Psalm: Psalm 46
Second Reading: Romans 3:19-28
Gospel: John 8:31-36
In past years, before the pandemic, I might have written a meditation about reform and how we shouldn't be afraid of times of reformation. It's easy to write those kinds of words in gentle times, when we think we can control the pace of reform. Now we have not one, but two, wars in two different parts of the planet (Ukraine and Gaza), and one must wonder how this will all turn out. In times like these, it's easy to want to cling to a place where nothing changes, and it's understandable that so many of us would like that place to be church.
It's easy to be pro-Reformation when we're thinking about times of reformation in the past. It's also easy to remember the positive elements of those times of reformation while forgetting the upheaval that times of reformation can bring. Those of us who love elements of Celtic Christianity may have forgotten that we have those elements because of a time of Roman invasion and immigration. Those of us who have memorized all the words to "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" may have forgotten how that Martin Luther's ideas triggered centuries of destruction in the name of God.
We can take comfort from the knowledge that the Church has always been in the process of Reformation. There are great Reformations, like the one we'll celebrate this Sunday, or the Pentecostal revolution that's only 100 years old, but has transformed the developing world (third worlds and those slightly more advanced) in ways that Capitalism never could. There are smaller ones throughout the ages as well. Movements which seemed earth-shattering at the time--monastic movements of all kinds, liberation theology, ordination of women, lay leadership, same sex marriage--may in time come to be seen as something that enriches the larger church. Even gross theological missteps, like the Inquisition, can be survived. The Church learns from past mistakes as it moves forward.
Times of Reformation can nourish us all. Even those of us who reject reform can find our spiritual lives enriched as we take stock and measure what's important to us, what compromises we can make and what we can't. It's good to have these times where we return to the Scriptures as we try to hear what God calls us to do.
Once the dust settles, each of the previous time periods of Reformation has left the Church enriched, but enriched in ways that no one could have predicted--that's what makes it scary, after all. As we approach Reformation Sunday, I'd encourage each of us to tap our own inner Martin Luther. What is the Church doing well? What could be changed for the better? What part can we play?
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