Years ago, the brilliant but cantankerous Baptist preacher Carlyle Marney was speaking to some students at a Christian college. When a student asked, "Dr. Marney, would you say a word or two about the resurrection of the dead?" Marney replied, "I will not discuss the resurrection with people like you: I don't discuss such things with anyone under 30. Look at you all: in the prime of life.
A few years ago, when I was researching a story
in Veracruz, Mexico, the proprietor of a small cantina and I struck up a
conversation. When talk turned to religion, Señor Gonzalez shyly asked if I
would like to see one of his most highly prized treasures.
The gospel reading for October 31 comes toward the end of
what most Lucan scholars call Luke's travel narrative. It begins ten chapters
earlier at 9:51, where Luke tells us, "When the days drew near for Jesus to be
taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem."
One would expect to follow Jesus' progress on a map—but the
coordinates make no geographical sense.
My friend, Larry Kamphausen, posted an interesting essay on his blog recently. You can read it here. He's struggling publicly with what it means to be stuck, caught between two (or more) ecclesial realities. He says:
S. Truett Cathy, founder of the Chick-fil-A restaurant chain, died last month. He believed that Christian principles didn’t conflict with good business practices. He has kept the restaurants closed on Sundays and encouraged stores to become involved in their communities. The business, worth $5.5 billion, has given $68 million to 700 educational and charitable organizations. The company came under fire in 2012 when Dan Cathy, president, made antigay marriage statements and was accused of supporting groups fighting same-sex marriage. Chick-fil-A subsequently stopped funding such groups (Christian Science Monitor, September 8).