Saturday, March 30, 2024

The Oil Press


“The Olive Press”
Matthew 26:36-46

The Impressive Uses of Olive Oil:
                As a runner and track and field coach, I have come to value antioxidants. Every time a new season begins, I give the diet talk to my athletes, emphasizing the health benefits of antioxidants and in which foods athletes can find them. These chemicals that naturally occur throughout the foods in God’s creation allow athletes to have a quicker recovery, a healthy heart, and can ease muscle fatigue.
                Olive oil boasts several helpful antioxidants, including tocopherols, β-carotene, lutein, squalene, lipophilic, and hydrophilic phenols. Each of these helps to promote immune health, reverse the oxidation process in our bodies, and help our tissues not to inflame. Olive oil also helps to prevent cardiovascular issues. Perhaps I shall find even more ways to increase my olive oil intake. Maybe it will help with the aches in my aging muscles as I run.
                The cultures of the first-century Hellenistic world had many uses for Olive Oil. As with many cultures, the people across the Roman Empire used the oil for cooking and enhancing their diet. They also regularly rubbed their bodies with olive oil after vigorous exercise. When they did so, it cleaned off the various dirt particles and sweat. After they finished smearing it on, they would scrape it off with a metal instrument called a strigil. Many people also used the oil as a perfume, as a fuel for their lamps, as medicine, as a lubricant, and in various religious rituals. The variety of uses caused such a high demand for olive oil that it became a highly taxed commodity in the Roman Empire.[1]
                With such a wide use for this amazing oil, gardens, and groves of olives spread throughout the Roman Empire. Olive growers found various means to process the fruit so that they could produce the oil. Often, they had to hire workers to don wooden footwear so they could crush the olives underfoot. How would you like to know that your olive oil came from the action of stomping feet? Other methods included pestle and mortar, a stone roller, or an olive press.[2]
The Press of Life:
                Many of us have felt pressed like olives. I know I certainly have, especially in recent years as I have struggled through a redefinition of my service to God and even more vividly through the loss of my son, Peter. Perhaps, like olives, others have trampled upon us, pushing out the very essence of life from our beings. The grinding action of suffering may have felt like a pestle and mortar against the soul. Or maybe we have felt like a stone crushed us because of betrayal or heartache or a sense that God forsakes us. We have been pressed by the machinations of society, the pain of death, the harsh words of other people, or the many other grievances we experience within our mortal existence. We exist like the empty husk of an olive, cast aside and useless.
Entering the Olive Press:
                Yet, we might just receive comfort as we gaze upon a scene of sorrow and submission that occurred in the Garden of Gethsemane a little over 2000 years ago. Jesus has just broken bread and shared wine with his most intimate friends. He has done this knowing that one will betray him, one will deny him, and the rest will scatter into the night, with the exception of the beloved disciple. Now he leads them to this garden known as Gethsemane so that they might support him in prayer as he awaits betrayal from a trusted companion.
                The name Gethsemane comes from the Hebrew/Aramaic Gath (
tg) Shemen (Nmw), meaning “oil press.”[3] Many sites have been suggested for this garden and the accompanying olive press. Luke’s account references The Mount of Olives, likely referring to the central summit of three mountains that made up a group of mountains located to the east of Jerusalem. The other two summits that people refer to collectively by the title Mount of Olives include Mount Scopus and the Mount of Offense.[4] On and surrounding these mountains existed many olive groves, including the one called Gethsemane to which Jesus led the disciples. A traditional location for the Garden of Gethsemane now hosts the Church of All the Nations, which sits adjacent to an olive grove. The more likely location for the garden exists a few hundred feet north of this traditional site. A cave at this location shows evidence of the preparation of olive oil. A cultivated garden may have surrounded this cave.[5] Jesus came to this garden with an oil press to express to God the agony pressing upon his soul.
Companions beneath the Press:
                The fullness of his deep sorrow finds expression throughout the scene. He takes Peter, James, and John with him and asks them to keep watch with him. Jesus wants the three members of his inner circle, who had also witnessed his glory at the moment of transfiguration, to share in his sorrow with him. Jesus asks them to watch with him. He feels a deep need to lean on these human relationships as he faces his great sorrow.[6]
                When we exist in great sorrow, we long for others to keep watch with us. Like Jesus, we want our closest friends present, not to offer advice, but to just dwell in the midst of the pain with us. Sorrow so often feels solitary. Our hearts desire for someone to join in the moments of grief with us because isolation only encourages deeper grief. In this, we can face the crush of the olive press.
God with Us in the Oil Press:
                Jesus also prays as he feels the crush of life and death. He longs for God to take the burden, the cup, of sorrow. The mention of the cup recalls the meal that Jesus had just shared with his disciples. In this meal, he lifted the cup of salvation. As he held the cup aloft, he called it the blood of the covenant. In this, he infers the sprinkling of sacrificial blood so that the community can, through grace, enter into a continuous and committed relationship with God.[7] Jesus knows that the calling placed upon him carries the need for sacrifice. This calling becomes a burden and overwhelms him. His agony pours forth because of the knowledge that he must play the part of the sacrificial lamb and take on the sins of the world, the cup of God’s wrath. So he cries out to God, asking for release.
                In the same breath, he submits to God. “Yet, not as I will, but as you will.” Jesus acknowledges God’s sovereignty in this situation. Even as he fears and shouts out in abject sorrow, he turns his heart toward God. As he feels the crush of his being, he faces the pressing, seeking out God in the midst.
                Our sorrows and situations do not even come close to equating with what Jesus dealt with in the garden on the night. Yet, we can still learn from his prayer. We can learn to express our pain honestly before God. We weep because of the crushing reality of life. God listens. We cry out because the burdens we carry overwhelm us and bury us. God hears our cries. As we sit in the metaphorical oil press, God sits with us. Scream out the griefs and aches. The crush may continue, but we can know that God offers his covenant love even as we bleed.
                We can also submit to God. Scripture attests over and over that God remains sovereign amid our heartaches. I have a hard time praying for God’s will in the midst of my many grievances. Yet, I must. In this, I might not discover the totality of healing, I may not even discover how God directs my paths through the sorrow, but I will try to discover the truth of his reign in this world.
                It does not make sense that each one of us has to deal with the sorrows we bear. Why must we know the crushing action of the oil press? From a human standpoint, it does not make sense that Jesus had to suffer as he did, becoming the sacrifice so that we might know reconciliation with God. He still faced that sorrow, struggled his way through it, and submitted to God. The task before Jesus was not an easy one!
                The task we face as we dwell in the oil press is not easy! Dwell there we must because all things exist in this broken creation. As a blessing, God enters into this broken creation with us. He weeps with us. He grieves for us. He experiences the oil press and drinks the cup on our behalf. Perhaps, we can find comfort in God as we yell out in regards to the many sorrows that crush us. At least we can try.

Prayer: Ever-present God, through Christ you have become the man of sorrows. We can know that you hear our desperate prayers of pain, forsakenness, and grief. Comfort us now. Then help us to know your will in our turmoil. Enable us to submit to you, even as we reel from the crushing effects of life and death. Come, dwell in the oil press with us. Make us useful like olive oil that has emerged from the crushing. In Christ’s holy name, we pray, Amen!



[1] Mark Cartwright, The Olive in the Ancient Mediterranean. (March 29, 2024); www.worldhistory.org.

[2] Ibid.

[3] J. B. Green, “Gethsemane.” in Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. (Downers Grove: IVP, 1992), 265.

[4] Craig S. Keener, A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 634.

[5] Michael J. Wilkins, The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004), 840.

[6] Ibid., 841.

[7] Robert H. Mounce, New International Biblical Commentary: Matthew. (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1991), 241.

Monday, March 25, 2024

Remember the Renegade

 

“Remember the Renegade”
Luke 23:39-43

Remembrances on March 25:
            This evening I plan to pull out my four Belgian Waffle makers and cook up some delicious waffles so that I can celebrate International Waffle Day. My daughter prefers to have a waffle with the impression of Mickey Mouse upon it while I prefer to have one from the waffle makers that place impressions of Star Wars characters upon them. My whole family looks forward to waffles for dinner.
            It would be particularly fitting if I could make a Waffle with images of an angel or of the crucifixion as the historical church has honored March 25th for two significant reasons throughout the centuries. The church has celebrated the Solemnity of the Annunciation on this day. Tradition holds that on March 25th, sometime around 2000 years ago, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary to announce the birth of the Messiah.
            Interestingly, the church also claims this date as the actual day of the crucifixion, when Jesus dies for our sins. These two events falling on the same day infers the possibility that in great mercy, Jesus gives up his life on the anniversary of his conception. God’s gift of grace and presence with us spreads from birth to death.
            Since the church acknowledges March 25th as the day of the crucifixion, some through the centuries have celebrated the Feast of Saint Dismas in remembrance of this creation altering moment. Dismas is the name given by tradition to the repentant criminal on the cross next to Jesus who said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” This man has become the patron saint for prisoners and penitent sinners because of his crimes, his confession and the mercy that Christ offers to all prisoners through the crucifixion.
            Tradition and myth add narrative to this man’s life. A legend regarding his life seeks to illuminate his character and why he spoke the words he did as he hung upon the cross. This apocryphal story from the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy, where he has the name Titus, narrates that he and the other criminal who hung next to Jesus had previously sought to rob Mary and Joseph. As the holy family traveled to Egypt following the events concerning the wise men and King Herod a band of thieves, consisting of these two men, threatened them. The legend tells that Dismas convinced the other thief to deter from his intention to steal by paying him 40 drachmas. He did this because he detected something special about the child Jesus being carried by Mary. As the tale concludes, Jesus prophecies that the thieves will suffer crucifixion with Jesus and Dismas will then join Jesus in heaven.[1]
Meeting the Renegade on the Cross:
            This legendary account provides great fodder for the imagination. It remains a myth attached to this miscreant who hung next to our Lord. From the brief narrative we do have in Scripture we can glean some facts about this man. Additionally, the words he gasps out in his final moments offer truth about how we should interact with our crucified Lord.
            Luke uses the Greek word,
kakourgon (kakourgon), a general term for miscreants, malefactors, and lawbreakers. Mark uses the word, lhsthj (lestes), translated as robber or thief, but referring to those who will not hesitate to use violence to achieve their desires. Many ancient sources used this word to refer to revolutionaries.[2] Most likely, these two men had plotted to overthrow Rome in some manner. Thus they received the punishment of death by crucifixion.
            We can know that this man had a violent past and likely harmed many others in pursuit of his militant goals. Most likely, he looked for a revolutionary Messiah, who would come and lead Israel to conquest over the hated foreign oppressors from Rome. Yet, somehow as his companion rails against Jesus, this rebel gains insight and truth.
Remembering Our Rebellion:
            He hangs on the cross next to Jesus, struggling to breathe, gasping for hope. He hears the mocking of his fellow felon, looks beside him, and sees the face of innocence, sweating and bearing the pain of the world’s sin on his shoulders. He suddenly knows the reality of God’s Messiah. He can do nothing, but in awe, speak these words, addressing them to the other criminal, “Don’t you fear God? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”
            In these words, this hardened man confesses his own wrongdoing and declares the reality and necessity of a Messiah for his life and ours. This man, wracked with pain, admits his own guilt, contrasting it with the innocence of Jesus.[3] In doing so, he reveals the truth, the innocent Messiah comes to suffer along with each person who exists in the guilt of rebellion, thievery, and violence. Seeing his own guilt and Jesus hanging beside him leads to salvation.[4]
            Each of us needs to consider our penchant toward rebellion, thievery, and violence. We all turn our hearts away from God’s design for life. We all steal from our neighbors, treating them unjustly with actions of greed and selfish pursuits. We all abuse others with cruel words, angry thoughts, bitterness, warmongering attitudes, and sometimes our very fists. We all hang on the edge of death in the midst of our guilt.
            Thanks be to God that Jesus hangs beside us! We can turn and recognize the precious Messiah just as the evil doer does on the cross. We can see Jesus’ innocence and our guilt. Then we can turn to Jesus for healing, restoration, and lives marked by his kingdom values.
Remembering Our True Sovereign:
            In the midst of conviction the criminal also states, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” This statement is replete with acknowledgement of the full grace of God present through the person and sacrifice of the Messiah, Jesus Christ.
            This miscreant acknowledges that he needs Jesus to remember him. Remembering comes with knowledge and compassion. When we seek this from Jesus, he grants it, inviting us into relationship with him and our Creator God. Jesus wants to remember each one of us and welcome us into his open arms. At the cross, Jesus forgives and offers the opportunity for each person to make this same request.
            In this statement, the criminal also implicitly acknowledges Jesus’ kingship.[5] He accepts Jesus as the sovereign over his life, setting aside any self-centered claim toward personal sovereignty. In this moment, he bows before the Lord in worship. He wants to take his place, through the grace of God, among the righteous in the coming kingdom of Christ.[6] He longs to experience restoration as a steward in God’s creation and knows that this man hanging next to him brings about that restoration through his perfect reign.
            Each of us needs to follow the example of this dying man. We all die a little every day. In our dying, we need to see Jesus hanging beside us claiming our fate as his own. We all revel in our rebellion against God’s design for life. In acknowledgement of our rebellion, we need to view the grace of God present in the one who takes our shame as his own. In seeing Christ beside us, joining us in our situation we can pray for him to remember us and rest assured that he does! When we truly gaze upon Christ, we will have to acknowledge him as Lord. Then, like the crucified rebel, we should ask Jesus to welcome us into his kingdom on this day.
            Jesus will do just that. In his unmatched love, he will invite us to dwell with him in paradise. In mercy, Jesus hangs beside each one of us, accepts our confessions of rebellion, and receives us as we bow before him in worship. Know the great grace of our sovereign king, Jesus Christ, and enter into his kingdom today.

 

Prayer: Gracious God, when I consider your great mercy, I know you remember me. Your Son, Jesus, did nothing wrong. Yet, he chooses to live and die as someone who has. He hangs beside me in my mortality. Even as I have rebelled against you and committed acts of injustice against other people, I know that Jesus has come into my reality. Forgive me and help me rest in the fact that you welcome me into paradise. In Christ’s loving name, Amen.

 



[1] St. Dismas, the Good Thief (April 25, 2024) Faith ND, http://www.fatih.nd.edu; St. Dismas (April 25, 2024), Catholic On-line/Saints & Angels; http://www.catholic.org/saints.

[2] N. T. Wright, The Crown and The Fire. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1992), 18.

[3] Fred B. Craddock, Interpretation: Luke. (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), 274.

[4] Michael Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement. (Downers Grove: IVP, 2010), 256.

[5] Craig A. Evans, NIBC: Luke. (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1990), 338.

[6] Darrell L. Bock, The NIV Application Commentary: Luke. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 396.