Author Archives: John Keller

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About John Keller

I am a retired Lutheran pastor whose intention is to consent to God's gracious presence and actions within.

Who Is In the Ditch? – Part 2

The Good Samaritan by Aimé Morot (1880) shows ...

The Good Samaritan by Aimé Morot (1880) shows the Good Samaritan taking the injured man to the inn. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In my last post, I suggested one way to read the Good Samaritan story in Luke 10 is to see ourselves as the one in the ditch, needing care. I contrasted this perspective with the standard view that we are to behave like the Samaritan and give care to those in need. I believe parables are open to a variety of interpretations; that is what makes them surprising and valuable as faith-building stories.

I hinted that there was third interpretation as well (and maybe more). The third view is to see where Jesus fits into the story.

The parable takes place on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. This would be the very road that Jesus will take later in the Gospel narrative when he went from Jericho to Jerusalem (Luke 19:1,28). Just before he started up that road, Jesus reminded the disciples of what he would encounter in Jerusalem,

Then he took the twelve aside and said to them, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished. For he will be handed over to the Gentiles; and he will be mocked and insulted and spat upon. After they have flogged him, they will kill him, and on the third day he will rise again.” (Luke 18:31-33)

Thus, in a subtle way, the parable points also to Jesus’ coming suffering and death at the hands of the Gentiles. Thus the question comes even more poignant as to how we respond to the story. Will we turn aside and try to ignore Jesus’ suffering (like the Priest and Levite) or will we embrace him as the crucified one (like the Samaritan)?

Taking the story full-circle, as Cathy Seither commented on my last post, Jesus goes one step further. In Matthew 25:31-46, when the Son of Man comes in glory and judges the nations, he will state that the righteous are those who fed, welcomed, clothed and visited him when he was in need.

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me’ (Matthew 25:37-40).

When we give love and support to other who are “in the ditch,” we are serving our Lord Jesus.

Where do you see yourself in the story of the Good Samaritan?

Lord Jesus, once again open my eyes and heart to see those who are in need and to respond in love.

Who Is In the Ditch?

A common interpretation of Jesus’ parable on the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) is to think it is moral story. The moral objective is for us to do good for our neighbors. If you see someone stranded by the side of the road, you should stop and help them in some way. There is nothing wrong with this moralistic interpretation of the parable. At the end Jesus says, “Go and do likewise.”

Good Samaritan by He Qi

Good Samaritan by He Qi

Yet such a moral interpretation is not the only way to read this story. Jesus’ parables nearly always contain a surprise that trips us up. The Good Samaritan has such a surprise. This was the focus of yesterday’s sermon which you can hear here.

Jesus told the story in order to answer a religious lawyer’s question about loving our neighbor. The lawyer asked, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus answered the question with the parable:

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him and left him half dead. (This not a big surprise since that road was an isolated one.) Now, by chance, a priest was coming down the road and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side of the road. (Minor surprise here, a priest might be one who would see the religious obligation to help, but does not.) Likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. (The Levite, another religious person who should help him, does not.)

Now in classic storytelling fashion, Jesus has set up the third person to break the pattern of passing by and thereby demonstrate what loving the neighbor means. Since he is speaking to a religious lawyer and wants him to learn what love is, one might expect the third person to be a religious lawyer who stops to aid the beaten man. This would make the moral point very explicit.

Instead, Jesus surprised the lawyer (and us) by introducing a Samaritan into the parable. Samaritans and Jews had a great deal of religious hatred with one another since they disagreed on where God’s temple should be (see John 4:20). The Samaritan is the one who goes out of his way to care for the beaten man; the Samaritan is a totally unexpected hero.

But where is the lawyer in the parable? For that matter where are we in this story? He (or we) might identify with the priest or Levite or possible the Samaritan. But there is another possibility. Perhaps Jesus is inviting lawyer (and the reader as well) to see oneself as the man beaten and thrown in the ditch.

Many of us have a hard time accepting the love and compassion of others. We prefer being the one in control, dispensing the compassion. We keep our wounds (emotional, spiritual, relational, and vocational) hidden. Perhaps Jesus is calling us to receive compassion and care from others and not be so stoic. There are risks to such vulnerability. Yet Jesus took such risks when he was beaten, stripped and died for us. (More later on this later in the week).

Lord Jesus, help me to receive compassion for others.

Unplugged Friday

Lent emphasizes spiritual disciplines. For example, Christians are encouraged to “give something up” for Lent as a way to make room for God. Fasting has been a spiritual practice for centuries. People forsake food (either totally or some favorite like chocolate or coffee) for a period of time so that they can more intentionally focus on loving God and loving the neighbor.

This Lent I am modifying the practice of fasting to being  “unplugged.” I plan to disconnect from all forms of computerized information on Fridays during Lent. No e-mail, no Facebook, no blog, no texting on Friday, my normal day off.  I plan to use the time for prayer, reading and reflection. A colleague of mine, Rich Melheim, is recommending a techfast  breakfast, staying unplugged each morning.  Such practices could also strengthen our creativity.

Jon Burg wrote on his blog regarding our need to unplug,

You, me and everyone else in the room knows that when you are answering emails on your mobile you aren’t really present. Your kids know it. Your co-workers know it. Your clients know it. Your spouse knows it. You know it. I’ve come to terms with this in my own life.

But I recently had a deeper insight. When I am always plugged-in to a device, I am not really present in my own life. I don’t enjoy my life as much when I live in the half-present. Not only does constant connectivity lessen my enjoyment of life, it distracts me from achieving the creative goals I set out for myself. The brain needs mindless time to reflect. This is why we come up with our best ideas in the shower.

A Bad Idea?

A Bad Idea?

I guarantee that if there were a tv screen in the shower, we would draw less inspiration from the shower experience. Who knows what major works of art, creativity and innovation would be lost.

You can read his whole article here

Part of the Lenten tradition of 40 day is based on Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness, a time of fasting and prayer, (Luke 4:1-2). I am pretty sure Jesus was also “unplugged” the whole time.

What spiritual practices are you embracing this Lent?

Lord Jesus, guide me into deeper devotion to you.

The Mask of Mardi Gras Revisted

I was looking at some of my old posts.  Since today is the last day of Mardi Gras, you might enjoy seeing what I wrote last year.   Still true, even a year later.

The Mask of Mardi Gras.

Slow Lent Revisted

Slow Lent Movement

Slow Lent Movement

In two days, Lent begins. Lent is a church season of preparation, looking towards Jesus’ passion. I have written about Lent before and as I stopped to reread it, I realize that I need to learn once again to slow down, to realign my life.

Two years ago I wrote about Bishop Margaret Payne’s passion for a Slow Lent Movement. A brief section of what I wrote then,

She spoke on how pastors have bought into the seduction of our culture’s three A’s: Accomplishment, Adrenalin, and Affirmation. As pastors we think our worth is based on how much we accomplish in our congregations and we enjoy the adrenalin rush that comes from having much to do and being needed by many people. And we relish the public affirmation that often comes from having our hands in many programs and ministries. I found myself nodding my head several time, recognizing my own self-delusions being exposed by her words.

But I don’t think her words are limited to pastors. In spite our professed trust in God’s grace, so many of us who are Christians still seek our self-worth based on our accomplishments. We rush about trying to fulfill the many “shoulds” we carry inside our heads. We seek public affirmation even as we feign humility. We have bought into the prevailing culture without seeing our need for a new way of life.

I confess that I continue to find my primary worth in my accomplishments, rather than my identity as God’s child. This Lent our congregation will be focused on the Lord’s Prayer and the opening phrase always give me pause, “Our Father in heaven.” Jesus instructs us to approach God as a loving father who seek us out.

I pray for you that the season of Lent will provide be a time of slow, reflective prayer, of simply being with God.

Yes, there is much to do.

Yes, our neighbor needs love.

But in our anxious hurry, you and I forget who we are. We need to slow down and be with our loving papa in heaven.

Lord Jesus, remind me once again to slow down in you.

Prayer Challenge

Title: The Prayer of Jesus (St John Passion - ...

Title: The Prayer of Jesus (St John Passion – 3) Painter: Jacek Andrzej Rossakiewicz (b.1956) Year: 1990 Characteristics: Oil on canvas, 245 x 137 cm (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jesus made radical promises regarding prayer.

  Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. (Matthew 7:7)

If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. (John 15:7)

Jesus promised that his disciples could “ask whatever they wish” and God would make it so. Such bold promises challenge my observation of the church and the world. So many prayers seem to go unanswered or forgotten.

I am not talking about what I consider “childish” prayers, like winning the lottery or finding a parking spot at the shopping mall. I am thinking about those real prayers of the heart, when day-after-day you pray for the healing of a loved one. A friend is afflicted with cancer or an addiction, a spouse is battling depression or a child is traveling in the wrong crowd and we pray. We pray asking God to bring healing and peace to this person believing that this is God’s will for God’s people. Jesus certainly brought healing to those in need; healing and wholeness is what God desires for all of creation, especially his children.

Naturally if the person resists God’s healing, God will not force mercy. Often a person wrestling with addiction has to hit bottom before they can see how powerless they are in their addiction. God does not force healing.

Still many of us pray daily for God’s healing and we do not experience it. Oh, there are those occasions when miraculous healings occur. Thanks be to God! I have participated in prayer services where God’s power has restored the sick to health. Yet such answers seem almost arbitrary because others have not had the same prayers answered even when their faith was strong and their prayers persistent.

I do not know the answer to my own question, other than to look to Jesus. In the Garden of Gethsemane he prayed for his own cup of suffering to be taken away, yet the next day he walked to the cross and death. His prayer was real and deep. And though he did drink the cup, his prayers gave him the strength and power to walk to Golgotha . . . . and three days later, the empty tomb.

And that is what we each need: the strength and courage to walk the path God has given us. So, like Jesus, we pray, “your will be done.”  The final answer to all prayers comes in Jesus’ resurrection and the promise of new life in him.

Lord Jesus, your will be done in my life.

Mountain Light and Dark

Sunday is Transfiguration Sunday, the conclusion to the church season of Epiphany. (I wrote about the light of Epiphany here). The story of Jesus’ transfiguration fascinates me on several levels. Partly it is the description of Jesus (“the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white” Luke 9:29). Partly it is the sudden arrival of Moses and Elijah, long-dead prophets whose ministries foreshadowed Jesus’ own mission. Partly it is God’s command, “Listen!”  A big part is the location, a mountain.

The Wonder of God's Creation

Mountains have always been spiritual place. Humans have climbed peaks to seek the heaven throughout our history. Moses climbed Mt. Sinai to receive the ten commandments directly from God (Exodus 20). Elijah ran away to Mount Horeb, the mount of God, where he encountered God in the sound of sheer silence (I Kings 19:11-13). Solomon’s temple was built on Mount Zion and the psalmist sang about its beauty,

His holy mountain, beautiful in elevation, is the joy of all the earth, Mount Zion (Psalm 48:1-2).

So when Jesus took his closest disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain to pray, they should not have been surprised that God met them there in a special way.

I enjoy climbing mountains (I wrote about one here).  On occasion I have used an ice axe and rope, but mostly I climb mountains that anyone in decent physical shape can scramble up.  A climb becomes both a physical and spiritual challenge.  I gain a sense of perspective sitting on top of a peak: how very large the world is and how very small I am. As I gaze across the surrounding peaks, I realize that God is in charge. The glory of his creation surrounds me and uplifts me.

But mountains have a darker side as well. The first significant mountain story in the Bible is when God ordered Abraham to take his son Isaac up on a mountain in order to sacrifice him (Genesis 22). The Israelite often created shrines to the Canaanite fertility gods on the mountain tops.

O mortal, set your face toward the mountains of Israel, and prophesy against them, and say, You mountains of Israel, hear the word of the Lord God! . . . , I myself will bring a sword upon you, and I will destroy your high places. Your altars shall become desolate, and your incense stands shall be broken; and I will throw down your slain in front of your idols (Ezekiel 6:2-4).

The darkest mountain of all is Mount Calvary or Golgotha where Jesus was crucified. Not much more than a hilltop outside of Jerusalem, yet the darkness of human sin caused the sky to turn black as Jesus cried, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). Mountains can be places of terrifying death as well as peaks of glorious enlightenment.

My boyhood home had a view of Mt. Rainier

My boyhood home had a view of Mt. Rainier

Yet whether hidden in darkness or bathed in sunlight, God’s glorious love is the bedrock of each peak. Mountains call us to trust in God in all circumstances.  Jesus came to bring all creation back into full spectrum of God’s love, including you and me.

Shine, Jesus, shine in me today.

on going back to work

My talented daughter-in-law, Maggie Keller, writes about the faithfulness of God as she transitions back to work after her maternity leave.  Plus some great pictures of my favorite two-month old, Jack Keller.

on going back to work.

Do Pets Go to Heaven?

Like many pastors, I have members ask me questions about God and Jesus, heaven and hell. I don’t always have an answer, but I try to help the person reflect on God’s grace and love as reflected in scripture.

long-coated-german-shepherd-maleThe question whether our pets will be in heaven is one such question. The Bible and Christian tradition gives no explicit answer. Revelation 21 describes a new heaven and new earth, but no reference to pets. My basic answer is that God loves you and if God determines that you need your pet in heaven then God will provide. But the promise of heaven revolves around God and not our pets.

Dietrich BonhoefferDietrich Bonhoeffer had an intriguing pastoral conversation when he was a newly ordained pastor serving a small German congregation in Barcelona, Spain. He writes about it in a letter to his brother-in-law.

At 11:00am there was a knock at my door and a ten-year-old boy came into my room. I noticed that something was amiss with the boy, who is usually cheerfulness personified. And soon it came out: He broke down into tear, completely beside himself, and I could hear only the words, “Herr Wolf ist tot” [Mr. Wolf is dead], and then he cried and cried. As it turns out, Herr Wolf is a young German shepherd dog that was sick for eight days and had just died a half-hour ago. So the boy, inconsolable, sat down on my knee and could hardly regain his composure; he told me how the dog died and how everything is lost now. What could I say? So he talked to me about it for quite a while. Then suddenly his wrenching crying became very quiet and he said, “But I know he’s not dead at all.” “What do you mean?” “His spirit is now in heaven, where it is happy. Once in class a boy asked the religion teacher what heaven was like, and she said she had not been there yet; but tell me now, will I see Herr Wolf again?”

So there I stood and was supposed to answer him yes or no. If I said, “no, we don’t know” that would have meant “no” . . . . . So I quickly made up my mind and said to him. “Look, God created human beings and also animals, and I’m sure he loves animals. And I believe that with God it is such that all who loved each other on earth—genuinely loved each other—will remain together with God, for to love is part of God. Just how that happens, though, we admittedly don’t know.”

You should have seen the happy face on this boy; he completely stopped crying. . . he was ecstatic. I repeated to him a couple of times that we don’t really know how this happens. He, however, knew, and knew it quite definitely in thought. . . . And there I stood— I who was supposed to “know the answer”— feeling quite small next to him; and I cannot forget the confident expression he had on his face when he left. (Bonhoeffer, Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas. p.87)

I take comfort that even Bonhoeffer struggled to answer this pastoral question. I also am thankful he landed on God’s love as the best answer for a boy in pain.

What do you think about the question, “Do Pets Go To Heaven?”

Lord Jesus, thank you for the love you lavish upon us in so many ways.

Mystery of Prayer

Prayer can often be a challenge to my rational mind. I like to have concrete, explicit answers to my requests of God. But the very act of conversing with an unseen, often silent, Being challenges all my rational expectations. Yet I would not want a god whom I can easily fit into my own limited understanding. That god would be too small if it could fit into my mind. To truly pray is to enter into the mystery of God, the creator of heaven and earth.  In a way prayer is our attempt to touch the hem of God’s robe.

Touch the Hem of his Garment by artist Amanda Retana

Touch the Hem of his Garment by artist Amanda Retana

Ted Loder writes about the mystery of God in his book Guerillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle.

Mystery means that, in spite of all our efforts, all our insights, discoveries, and experiences, we will never do much more than touch the hem of God’s robe. It is enough that such touching brings healing. It is too much, idolatrously too much, to claim more than a very little information about the wearer of the robe. And even that little information we can claim only with enormous humility. However, humility is the twin of trust.

It has been said, referring to the temptation to which biblical literalists often succumb, that we should never confuse the love letter with the lover. We all have our version of such literalism, our dogmaticisms, our exaggerated (if unadmitted) claims of knowledge. Humble acknowledgment of mystery delivers us from the imprisonment of such certainties into the awesome dimensions of possibilities. Trust begins here. So, in some primitive way, does prayer. (p. 17)

I will never be able to fully comprehend how or why prayer “works,” but I continue to pray, trusting in God’s grace and love. Through out his life Jesus prayed to his Father; I follow in his example.

To use Ted Loder’s own prayer Calm Me into a Quietness,

Now, O Lord,
Calm me into a quietness that heals and listens,
And molds my longings and passions,
my wounds and wonderings,
Into a more holy and human shape (p.27)