Steven Chun brings us thoughts on Daniel 7:1-28. Chapter 7 follows many stories we’re familiar with — Daniel’s fasting, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednigo, Daniel in the lion’s den — but then suddenly the language changes to apocalyptic liturature. Like poetry — we can get lost in the specifics and miss out on what it’s trying to convey. As a subversive literature, it can come as an invitation to see history from the perspective of the oppressed — those who must cling to hope.

Tim offers us a close look at the Emmaus Road story — which culminates in the breaking of bread in a meal — and an invitation to reflect on: what keeps us from seeing Jesus? what Jesus are we seeing? why does Jesus appear in the breaking of bread?

The passage opens with two disciples walking away from Jerusalem toward Emmaus. These two have been loyal to Jesus, followed in his ministry, and marched to Jerusalem as Jesus declared a new kingdom — ultimately leading to his execution. They’ve put all their hope in Jesus, Messiah — yet now are marching away from those hopes. They’re disappointed, and talking about it.

The disciples do not know about the resurrection — though they’ve been told. They begin telling a stranger (Jesus) about the prophet they thought would deliver them — yet fail to see the Jesus in front of them.

A few times a year, the youth of Pasadena Mennonite Church take the reins and plan and lead the Sunday service, from the Welcome and Announcements through Worship in word and song. Here are shared two snippets of the service on November 11th: sermons by Liza Platonov titled “Fear Itself,” and by Jadyn Tipton titled “The God that says I Can and the Voice that says I Can’t.” The youth group together chose the theme of fear, and the scripture passages Phillipians 4: 4-7 and 2 Timothy 1:7-12.

With its psychedelic visions and violence, the Book of Revelation doesn’t seem to fit the rest of the New Testament. Despite all the oddness, revelation pops up all over within our culture. It’s been used and abused. It’s usually grossly misunderstood and misinterpreted — though we owe it to ourselves to not simply ignore it. But it can also be one of the most interesting, theologically profound and spiritually fulfilling parts of scripture. It can be one of the most important texts in scripture for helping the church to understand theologically the current situation in America.

Rooted in Amos 5:6-7, 10-15, Tim Reardon, preached on James James 1:22-27; 2:18-26. Tim begins with a story of the desert fathers — or better yet, “desert parents” — a dialogue between Abbot Lot and Abbot Joseph, his elder. The question ultimately posed by Abbot Joseph, “Why not be completely changed into fire?” is contrasted to the way Nicodemus might have heard Jesus’ directive, “you must be born again.” These are interesting, ridiculous, and meaningful sayings. Both imply that they need not just to do certain things, but to have something done to them — allowing something to be done to them by God. Yieldedness.

On September 23rd, Lauren Murtidjaja led us in a reflection on Mark 9:30-37, and James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a. James seems to be writing a “tough-love letter to the diaspora. The diaspora was dealing with partiality and favoritism — caught up in appearances. Most of us can relate at some level: we like to be seen in a certain light. How can their journey challenge us?

Their struggles can be traced back to wisdom. James asks: Who is wise and understanding among you? What are the marks of wisdom? In the bible, the goal of all wisdom is the formation of character — the relationship between hearing the Word and doing the Word. Hence, they are instructions for life.

On September 16th, Tim Reardon led a reflection on James 1:1-12 — emphasizing that justice cannot be seen as separate from the cross. James talks about a double minded person as one who wants to hear the gospel but not do it.

Tim reminds us that the cross is a revelation of injustice. The cross of Jesus, the innocent one, who was executed, who calls into question our social, economic and justice systems — calls into question all forms of injustice. It is a revelation of God’s solidarity with the poor and those disenfranchised, and a call to repentance for those who are powerful and unjust.

On September 9th, Inés Velasquez-McBryde led us in a reflection on Luke 10:25-37 — with new thoughts on the good Samaritan. Inéz first notes that the expert of the law puts Jesus, the teacher, to the test.

Jesus invites the expert into a dialogue. “What is written in the law?” And as the dialogue progresses, the expert asks Jesus, “And who is my neighbor” — in an attempt to justify himself. He seems to understand the idea of loving God with all of his heart, mind, and soul — but does not understand the work of love toward his neighbor.

We often separate “social justice” from more “religious” ideas of holiness, but Jesus does not artificially separate these. He teaches us that the tree and the fruit are intimately tied together. A tree is known by its fruit, and it matters who we are and what we do.

But this is not a call to perfectionism. Rather, James tells us to develop habits of listening and reception, to encounter God, who plants good seeds, who tills the garden, nurtures the soil, and grows the tree, so that we might be doers of God’s peace and justice as people tilled by God the Gardener, illumined by Jesus the Sun.