Mark 15:1-20
People reject Jesus for all kinds of different reasons. Some of them are deeply emotional and personal reasons, and some of them are thought through and deliberate. Things were no different when Jesus walked the streets of Judea, and in these courtroom scenes in Mark, we learn why the religious leaders and why the political leader of the day rejected Jesus.
The Sanhedrin were desperate to find something to use against Jesus that would send him to his death. They were so desperate they broke all their normal rules for trial and accusation, concocted false witnesses and searched for any testimony that would condemn Jesus. They finally landed on a misrepresentation of Jesus’ own words, “I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another not made with hands” (14:58). The religious leaders looked for and found a religious reason to reject Jesus.
It might sound odd to put it this way, but people often reject Jesus for religious reasons. The threat Jesus posed to them was to their tightly-packaged and self-styled religion. It is true they were trying to be devout followers of God, but their legalism had become their idol and their means of controlling the people. Jesus openly, and sometimes violently, rejected the legalism of the Pharisees. He even did it before crowds of people, changing their loyalties from the scribes and Pharisees to himself. Jesus freed the people from the religious leaders’ monopoly of religious practice.
What is important is that when the Sanhedrin were confronted with the truth, they clung instead to what they wanted to be true. This is a powerful force in the human heart. To be confronted with the truth of Jesus Christ means I need to change. It means I need to come to the realization I am no longer in control, and I am no longer my own lord and master. On the other hand, if I get to set the religious rules and realities, I am much more comfortable. Paul tells us that people will reject the truth because what is false suits their own pleasures (2 Timothy 4:3).
Pilate, on the other hand, was not a religious man. He was a political creature who worked his way up the ladder of power, and eventually took his own life when he has his position stripped from him. What is important for our discussion here, is that he was convinced of Jesus’ innocence. Three times in Mark 15 Pilate presses the crowd and Sanhedrin to make sure they want to condemn Jesus to death. The record of Pilate in the other Gospels makes it even clearer that he knew Jesus to be innocent—his wife even had a dream warning him not to have anything to do with Jesus’ conviction. So what caused him to send an innocent man to a tortuous death? Mark 15:15 provides the answer, “So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd…delivered him to be crucified.”
Pilate, face-to-face with the truth, picked the false path because it was politically and culturally expedient; it pleased and placated the crowd. He chose the path of least social resistance. This is another powerful force in the human heart. It is easier for us to pick our own ease and comfort and the accolades of others over the truth of Jesus Christ. But when we do, there is a high price to pay. When my own desires, ease and comfort are king, I will be willing to bend and compromise everywhere else. Pilate went so far as to send Jesus to his death. I will compromise on all my commitments, including friends, family, career, and even God.
But if I chose Christ, against what is easy religiously and culturally, I gain the whole world. When I lose my soul to him, I get it back. When I accept the truth of Jesus Christ, it sets me free.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Willing Slaves of Christ
Revelation 1:1
The book of Revelation tends lay in a fog. We may only read it when we get worried about world events, or at the end of our yearly reading program, and it is almost always a frustrating book to try and figure out. It contains odd and difficult to understand visions, dreams, beasts and creatures. Much of what John sees and writes down is in a form foreign to us, and we don’t always know how to go about tackling the interpretation of the book.
This is an odd, though common, irony. From the very start of the book, it is intended to be a revelation of Jesus Christ. Though that word “revelation” is the Greek word for apocalypse, it means to have something unfolded and explained to us. And who or what is the target of that unfolding? It is Jesus Christ. The book of Revelation, for all its uniqueness, reveals Jesus Christ to us in ways the rest of the NT only hints at.
One of the keys to the revelatory nature of this book lies in an important concept John uses twice in his opening thoughts. God reveals the contents of this book to his servants in general, and reveals it specifically to his servant John (1:1). By the time John writes this book down (probably as late as 95 A.D.), the title of “servant” of Christ is loaded with meaning.
This word is a powerful indicator of a believer’s relationship with Jesus Christ. It means to be a “bond slave,” or someone who has willingly become the slave of another. For example, after Peter and John suffer persecution at the hands of the religious leaders of the day, they return to their church and pray. Part of what they say is in Acts 4:29:
“And now, Lord, look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness.”
The early church took this title of “willing slave” upon themselves: they were not given it, they took it. And as Paul writes to the various churches, he commonly calls himself the servant, or bondservant, of Jesus Christ (Romans 1:1, Philippians 1:1). John also calls himself a servant of Jesus Christ. And as such he faithfully writes down all he sees and hears and compiles the book of Revelation.
It is no small thing to say John faithfully wrote down this book. He was the subject of persecution, the people he wrote to were as well, and the things contained in the book are not all roses and rainbows. John was a servant of Christ even when it meant his own (severe) discomfort, and when he probably didn’t like what he was seeing and getting from God.
As such, he stands as an example of what it means for me to be a willing slave of Jesus Christ. It means he is the most important thing to my life and my decisions. It means God is always right and good even when present circumstances are not easy or comfortable. It means I can and should fulfill my calling no matter what that means for my position and place in life. Taking the label of servant means I act as though God is Lord, not me.
And what results? Well, for one thing, God wants to reveal his Son Jesus Christ to his servants through the pages of Revelation. To encounter this Christ through the lens of the trials and difficulty of this world requires a right relationship with him: being a willing servant to a sovereign God.
The book of Revelation tends lay in a fog. We may only read it when we get worried about world events, or at the end of our yearly reading program, and it is almost always a frustrating book to try and figure out. It contains odd and difficult to understand visions, dreams, beasts and creatures. Much of what John sees and writes down is in a form foreign to us, and we don’t always know how to go about tackling the interpretation of the book.
This is an odd, though common, irony. From the very start of the book, it is intended to be a revelation of Jesus Christ. Though that word “revelation” is the Greek word for apocalypse, it means to have something unfolded and explained to us. And who or what is the target of that unfolding? It is Jesus Christ. The book of Revelation, for all its uniqueness, reveals Jesus Christ to us in ways the rest of the NT only hints at.
One of the keys to the revelatory nature of this book lies in an important concept John uses twice in his opening thoughts. God reveals the contents of this book to his servants in general, and reveals it specifically to his servant John (1:1). By the time John writes this book down (probably as late as 95 A.D.), the title of “servant” of Christ is loaded with meaning.
This word is a powerful indicator of a believer’s relationship with Jesus Christ. It means to be a “bond slave,” or someone who has willingly become the slave of another. For example, after Peter and John suffer persecution at the hands of the religious leaders of the day, they return to their church and pray. Part of what they say is in Acts 4:29:
“And now, Lord, look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness.”
The early church took this title of “willing slave” upon themselves: they were not given it, they took it. And as Paul writes to the various churches, he commonly calls himself the servant, or bondservant, of Jesus Christ (Romans 1:1, Philippians 1:1). John also calls himself a servant of Jesus Christ. And as such he faithfully writes down all he sees and hears and compiles the book of Revelation.
It is no small thing to say John faithfully wrote down this book. He was the subject of persecution, the people he wrote to were as well, and the things contained in the book are not all roses and rainbows. John was a servant of Christ even when it meant his own (severe) discomfort, and when he probably didn’t like what he was seeing and getting from God.
As such, he stands as an example of what it means for me to be a willing slave of Jesus Christ. It means he is the most important thing to my life and my decisions. It means God is always right and good even when present circumstances are not easy or comfortable. It means I can and should fulfill my calling no matter what that means for my position and place in life. Taking the label of servant means I act as though God is Lord, not me.
And what results? Well, for one thing, God wants to reveal his Son Jesus Christ to his servants through the pages of Revelation. To encounter this Christ through the lens of the trials and difficulty of this world requires a right relationship with him: being a willing servant to a sovereign God.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The Spirit Is Willing And The Flesh Is Weak
Mark 14:32-42
Jesus’ prayer in the garden of Gethsemane is one of the more interesting passages in Mark’s Gospel for several reasons, not the least of which is that it is a unique insight into his preparation for the cross. For days and even weeks, Jesus taught and led the disciples preparing them for what was coming. Their worlds are about to be turned upside down and Jesus wants them to be as prepared as possible.
But in the prayer in the garden, we catch a glimpse of Jesus preparing himself. He brings three disciples close to where he prays, and then moves deeper into the garden to be alone with his Father. Jesus prays a shocking prayer: he refers to God in the most intimate terms possible at the moment of his greatest crisis by calling him “Abba Father”; he reveals the struggle in his own heart and mind with utter candor by telling God he would like this cup to be removed from him; and, ultimately, he submits to the will of God in a trying and torturous moment.
On the other hand, the disciples were sleeping. Jesus asked them to stay awake, but the Passover meal and four glasses of wine were taking their toll. Jesus set them near him telling them to remain awake and pray with him, and I have no doubt they had every intention of doing so. But instead of vigilant prayer in the middle of the night, they fall asleep. Honestly, I probably would have done the same thing.
Part of what Jesus tells them when he comes to wake them up is a powerful glimpse into the lesson of the prayer in the Garden. When he finds them asleep he says, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak” (vs. 37-38).
How have you heard that phrase used: “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”? How have you used it? It is not uncommon to use this phrase to excuse our behavior. We might have failed at actually doing something of value or help, but at least our hearts were in the right place. After all, our spirits were willing but you can hardly blame me for my flesh being weak.
When we place this phrase back into context, however, it ceases to be an excuse or an explanation, and becomes a correction. Jesus fully expected their flesh to be strong enough to keep up with the intentions or desires of the spirit within them. Our desires, even the best of them, don’t do us much good if they are never acted upon. If I desire with every ounce of my being to be kind, loving, patient and thoughtful toward my spouse but every word or action of mine is short-tempered, cruel and selfish, what good have my desires done anyone? I may intend to follow Christ with my whole life: to stay attentive and steadfast, to tithe and give of myself. But if I do none of those things, what good have my desires done for myself and the kingdom of God?
Don’t misunderstand: our desires need to be in line with God’s desires. That way, when we act on our desires, we act out the will of God.
It is entirely possible to follow the example of Christ in this passage. We can have a flesh—a lifestyle—that is ready to do what we rightly desire to do. Christ wrestled in the garden. He was shockingly honest about how he felt, but his spirit was willing to do what the Father ultimately wanted done. In the garden he surrendered his will, and on the cross his body naturally and inevitably followed.
I need to learn the lesson of surrendering my will to God’s will now, so that when the time comes for my flesh to follow, it is the most natural thing for me to do.
Jesus’ prayer in the garden of Gethsemane is one of the more interesting passages in Mark’s Gospel for several reasons, not the least of which is that it is a unique insight into his preparation for the cross. For days and even weeks, Jesus taught and led the disciples preparing them for what was coming. Their worlds are about to be turned upside down and Jesus wants them to be as prepared as possible.
But in the prayer in the garden, we catch a glimpse of Jesus preparing himself. He brings three disciples close to where he prays, and then moves deeper into the garden to be alone with his Father. Jesus prays a shocking prayer: he refers to God in the most intimate terms possible at the moment of his greatest crisis by calling him “Abba Father”; he reveals the struggle in his own heart and mind with utter candor by telling God he would like this cup to be removed from him; and, ultimately, he submits to the will of God in a trying and torturous moment.
On the other hand, the disciples were sleeping. Jesus asked them to stay awake, but the Passover meal and four glasses of wine were taking their toll. Jesus set them near him telling them to remain awake and pray with him, and I have no doubt they had every intention of doing so. But instead of vigilant prayer in the middle of the night, they fall asleep. Honestly, I probably would have done the same thing.
Part of what Jesus tells them when he comes to wake them up is a powerful glimpse into the lesson of the prayer in the Garden. When he finds them asleep he says, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak” (vs. 37-38).
How have you heard that phrase used: “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”? How have you used it? It is not uncommon to use this phrase to excuse our behavior. We might have failed at actually doing something of value or help, but at least our hearts were in the right place. After all, our spirits were willing but you can hardly blame me for my flesh being weak.
When we place this phrase back into context, however, it ceases to be an excuse or an explanation, and becomes a correction. Jesus fully expected their flesh to be strong enough to keep up with the intentions or desires of the spirit within them. Our desires, even the best of them, don’t do us much good if they are never acted upon. If I desire with every ounce of my being to be kind, loving, patient and thoughtful toward my spouse but every word or action of mine is short-tempered, cruel and selfish, what good have my desires done anyone? I may intend to follow Christ with my whole life: to stay attentive and steadfast, to tithe and give of myself. But if I do none of those things, what good have my desires done for myself and the kingdom of God?
Don’t misunderstand: our desires need to be in line with God’s desires. That way, when we act on our desires, we act out the will of God.
It is entirely possible to follow the example of Christ in this passage. We can have a flesh—a lifestyle—that is ready to do what we rightly desire to do. Christ wrestled in the garden. He was shockingly honest about how he felt, but his spirit was willing to do what the Father ultimately wanted done. In the garden he surrendered his will, and on the cross his body naturally and inevitably followed.
I need to learn the lesson of surrendering my will to God’s will now, so that when the time comes for my flesh to follow, it is the most natural thing for me to do.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Take and Eat, Take and Drink
Mark 14:22-31
The Lord’s Supper is a crucial point for Jesus, the disciples, and every follower of Christ. The meal of the Passover was celebrated by God’s people year after year for centuries to commemorate what God did for his people when he delivered them from captivity in Egypt and to look forward to the day when the Messiah would come and complete the job. When God’s people went to the effort to come to Jerusalem and prepare the Passover meal, they identified with their God and not another, and they identified themselves with these people—these people who owed their very existence to the gracious salvation of God.
On this night, however, Jesus breaks with tradition and takes the meal upon himself. Everything the people of God have been waiting for is now fulfilled in him.
Jesus took the bread, spoke the traditional blessing and passed it out. The common practice was for the bread to be passed out in silence as each member at the table allowed the significance of the act to sink in. On this night Jesus broke the silence with, “Take, this is my body.” This bread the disciples and their people took for centuries represents the body of this man, Jesus Christ. In his telling, Luke adds, “which is given for you.” For the disciples, this is a vivid image. Animals were sacrificed over and over by the hundreds of thousands to cover the sins of God’s people. But they cannot complete our forgiveness, so they needed to return the next year and repeat the ritual. Sacrifice, sin, repeat.
Jesus’ body will be given in the same way the lamb’s body was—it will be sacrificed. But unlike the lamb, the Lamb’s sacrifice will cleanse us once and for all of our sins.
Jesus took the cup, spoke the traditional blessing and passed it out. Like the bread, the traditional practice was to pass the cup in silence as each person there prayed for the coming of the Messiah. Jesus, however, again broke the silence with, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.” In the Old Testament, when a covenant was struck between two people or between God and his people, it was sealed with the shedding of blood. In their minds the life of a thing was in its blood, and to shed it was the most solemn act possible to signify that the covenant was sealed and both parties were bound by its terms.
This new covenant will be sealed with the literal blood of Jesus Christ, and it is sure. This new covenant does what no other covenant or sacrifice could do—it forgives every sin. God told Jeremiah about this sacrifice by saying, “For I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sins no more” (31:34). Isaiah describes the act of the cross this way: “he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many and makes intercession for the transgressor” (53:12).
Because of the cross, Jesus now stands between God’s justice and my sin. Instead of receiving the just punishment of my sins, I now receive forgiveness and grace because Jesus bore my sin on the cross.
With each element, Jesus not only told us what it meant, he commanded us to take and eat and drink. We take in, we consume, the body and the blood of Jesus each time we take communion. It is a powerful and public act of identification and consecration. When I take communion, I tell the world I belong to this God and not another. I tell the world I belong to these people, the Body of Christ here on earth. I not only identify with the other believers in my church, but every believer across the globe and across time. Many believers take communion openly and proclaim their allegiance with Christ. Many believers huddle in dark corners due to persecution and take the body and blood of Jesus Christ. I belong to them and they belong to me. It is an acted parable; the acting of the story is the telling of the truth of it.
Take and eat and take and drink for, “whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (John 6:54).
The Lord’s Supper is a crucial point for Jesus, the disciples, and every follower of Christ. The meal of the Passover was celebrated by God’s people year after year for centuries to commemorate what God did for his people when he delivered them from captivity in Egypt and to look forward to the day when the Messiah would come and complete the job. When God’s people went to the effort to come to Jerusalem and prepare the Passover meal, they identified with their God and not another, and they identified themselves with these people—these people who owed their very existence to the gracious salvation of God.
On this night, however, Jesus breaks with tradition and takes the meal upon himself. Everything the people of God have been waiting for is now fulfilled in him.
Jesus took the bread, spoke the traditional blessing and passed it out. The common practice was for the bread to be passed out in silence as each member at the table allowed the significance of the act to sink in. On this night Jesus broke the silence with, “Take, this is my body.” This bread the disciples and their people took for centuries represents the body of this man, Jesus Christ. In his telling, Luke adds, “which is given for you.” For the disciples, this is a vivid image. Animals were sacrificed over and over by the hundreds of thousands to cover the sins of God’s people. But they cannot complete our forgiveness, so they needed to return the next year and repeat the ritual. Sacrifice, sin, repeat.
Jesus’ body will be given in the same way the lamb’s body was—it will be sacrificed. But unlike the lamb, the Lamb’s sacrifice will cleanse us once and for all of our sins.
Jesus took the cup, spoke the traditional blessing and passed it out. Like the bread, the traditional practice was to pass the cup in silence as each person there prayed for the coming of the Messiah. Jesus, however, again broke the silence with, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.” In the Old Testament, when a covenant was struck between two people or between God and his people, it was sealed with the shedding of blood. In their minds the life of a thing was in its blood, and to shed it was the most solemn act possible to signify that the covenant was sealed and both parties were bound by its terms.
This new covenant will be sealed with the literal blood of Jesus Christ, and it is sure. This new covenant does what no other covenant or sacrifice could do—it forgives every sin. God told Jeremiah about this sacrifice by saying, “For I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sins no more” (31:34). Isaiah describes the act of the cross this way: “he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many and makes intercession for the transgressor” (53:12).
Because of the cross, Jesus now stands between God’s justice and my sin. Instead of receiving the just punishment of my sins, I now receive forgiveness and grace because Jesus bore my sin on the cross.
With each element, Jesus not only told us what it meant, he commanded us to take and eat and drink. We take in, we consume, the body and the blood of Jesus each time we take communion. It is a powerful and public act of identification and consecration. When I take communion, I tell the world I belong to this God and not another. I tell the world I belong to these people, the Body of Christ here on earth. I not only identify with the other believers in my church, but every believer across the globe and across time. Many believers take communion openly and proclaim their allegiance with Christ. Many believers huddle in dark corners due to persecution and take the body and blood of Jesus Christ. I belong to them and they belong to me. It is an acted parable; the acting of the story is the telling of the truth of it.
Take and eat and take and drink for, “whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (John 6:54).
Monday, September 22, 2008
Christ is Worth Everything
Mark 14:1-11
While Jesus, his friends and his disciples reclined around a table just hours before the crucifixion, Mary came into the room carrying the most expensive and rare thing any of them had seen. The alabaster flask of ointment was worth almost a year’s wages and was way out of the price range of anyone in that room. None of the men could have afforded it, and certainly none of the women could have. Chances are this rare flask of nard from the foothills of the Indian Himalayas was a family heirloom.
Mary broke it and poured it over the head and feet of Jesus Christ.
What a waste! The disciples, lead by Judas, immediately began to wag their fingers at the silly woman and list all the things that could have been done with all that money.
“Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” (14:4-5)
Just imagine all the food for the poor that could be bought with $40,000. How much clothing? How much shelter? The disciples chide Mary’s extravagant display with their pious practicality. Pouring that oil over Jesus like that was a waste.
Jesus had a different reaction.
“Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.” (14:6)
By “beautiful,” Jesus means it was good, excellent, commendable, and even admirable. In other words, Mary’s act was far from a waste; it was behavior worthy of our admiration and imitation. Jesus tells the disciples they can still walk out the door and give to the poor—they will always be there. Jesus does not belittle or chastise the drive to be charitable and take care of those less fortunate than ourselves; he teaches them that he is worth more than anything else in this universe. And Jesus continues to admire what Mary did. She “did what she could.” She took the best she had and worshiped Christ with it. Worshiping and adoring Christ with everything she had was the best thing she could have done. Mary, without really knowing it, anointed Jesus’ body for burial. In the act of worship and sacrifice, Mary honored the will and plan of God without knowing exactly what was to come to pass. We do the same when we worship him. And wherever the gospel is preached, what she did will be taught and honored. This single, extravagant act of sacrificial worship still inspires us today. In contrast, the pious practicality of the rest of the disciples seems lame.
Jesus Christ has no hesitation telling us he is worth our all. Even in the face of all the nice and good things we can do for others, Jesus is still worth more than any of it. God’s glory demands my everything. We were made to find every ounce of our stability, meaning, joy, forgiveness, rapture, and purpose in God, and we find those things when we worship and adore him above everything else. When Christ tells us he is worthy of all our praise, it is not arrogance, it is love. If God did not reveal himself to us as the highest object of our affections, he would be concealing from us the fulfillment of our deepest longings.
By all means, work to help those less fortunate than yourselves, give aid to others when it is in your hand to do, but don’t use the disciple’s excuse to keep your best from Christ. Every good and wonderful thing in this life takes their rightful place when God is first. Every other use of your best is nothing but a waste.
While Jesus, his friends and his disciples reclined around a table just hours before the crucifixion, Mary came into the room carrying the most expensive and rare thing any of them had seen. The alabaster flask of ointment was worth almost a year’s wages and was way out of the price range of anyone in that room. None of the men could have afforded it, and certainly none of the women could have. Chances are this rare flask of nard from the foothills of the Indian Himalayas was a family heirloom.
Mary broke it and poured it over the head and feet of Jesus Christ.
What a waste! The disciples, lead by Judas, immediately began to wag their fingers at the silly woman and list all the things that could have been done with all that money.
“Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” (14:4-5)
Just imagine all the food for the poor that could be bought with $40,000. How much clothing? How much shelter? The disciples chide Mary’s extravagant display with their pious practicality. Pouring that oil over Jesus like that was a waste.
Jesus had a different reaction.
“Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.” (14:6)
By “beautiful,” Jesus means it was good, excellent, commendable, and even admirable. In other words, Mary’s act was far from a waste; it was behavior worthy of our admiration and imitation. Jesus tells the disciples they can still walk out the door and give to the poor—they will always be there. Jesus does not belittle or chastise the drive to be charitable and take care of those less fortunate than ourselves; he teaches them that he is worth more than anything else in this universe. And Jesus continues to admire what Mary did. She “did what she could.” She took the best she had and worshiped Christ with it. Worshiping and adoring Christ with everything she had was the best thing she could have done. Mary, without really knowing it, anointed Jesus’ body for burial. In the act of worship and sacrifice, Mary honored the will and plan of God without knowing exactly what was to come to pass. We do the same when we worship him. And wherever the gospel is preached, what she did will be taught and honored. This single, extravagant act of sacrificial worship still inspires us today. In contrast, the pious practicality of the rest of the disciples seems lame.
Jesus Christ has no hesitation telling us he is worth our all. Even in the face of all the nice and good things we can do for others, Jesus is still worth more than any of it. God’s glory demands my everything. We were made to find every ounce of our stability, meaning, joy, forgiveness, rapture, and purpose in God, and we find those things when we worship and adore him above everything else. When Christ tells us he is worthy of all our praise, it is not arrogance, it is love. If God did not reveal himself to us as the highest object of our affections, he would be concealing from us the fulfillment of our deepest longings.
By all means, work to help those less fortunate than yourselves, give aid to others when it is in your hand to do, but don’t use the disciple’s excuse to keep your best from Christ. Every good and wonderful thing in this life takes their rightful place when God is first. Every other use of your best is nothing but a waste.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Stay Awake! Mark 13:32-37
Mark 13:32-37
Mark 13 is a fascinating chapter for expected and unexpected reasons. It captures our attention for the expected reasons: Jesus talks about the end of the age, the coming of the Son of Man, and references a host of OT prophetic literature. It also captures our attention for unexpected reasons: we learn a great deal about what it means to follow Christ is a world that, at times, seems utterly out of control.
Throughout the chapter Christ tells the disciples the end will not be pretty. Pray you are not infirm or sick or pregnant when that day comes—you need to be able to run. Even the coming of the Son of Man is attended with the darkening of the sun and moon and the falling of the stars. Though it is great and glorious, it is overwhelming. Then, to wrap up the teaching on the signs of the end of the age, Jesus tells a parable.
A master sets up his house, leaves it in the hands of his servants, and leaves. He doesn’t tell the servants when he is coming back, so they must remain awake until he returns to claim his possession. The servants were put in a position of responsibility over the master’s house and needed to stay diligent to watch over it until he comes back. Christ closes the parable with some rather haunting words, “And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake” (vs. 37).
In just a few days the disciples will watch Christ rise off the ground and ascend into heaven leaving them here without his physical presence. At that very moment the disciples become the servants of the parable, responsible for the master’s house until he returns. And did they take that responsibility seriously! Their very real belief that Christ was coming back soon, that they didn’t know when, and that they were responsible until he did turned their world upside down.
Within a generation, the world of their time knew about Jesus Christ. Thomas went as far as India. John and others found themselves in the deserts of Africa. Others made it as far as Europe, and even Paul was trying to get to Spain before his death. Even though the early Christians were the slaves and lower classes of their time, the rest of the world took notice. The disciples of the disciples spent a great deal of time defending their faith against the slander of the Roman citizens who didn’t understand what was happening to their culture.
The disciples and their disciples died and Christ did not return. That means we now stand in the same place they did when Christ first ascended into heaven; we are now the servants in charge of the master’s house. Will we take up the responsibility? Are we prepared to do what the disciples did and turn our world upside down with the Gospel of Jesus Christ? We certainly live in a different world than they did, and our challenges may be different from theirs, but their world was every bit as hostile to and skeptical of Christ. And yet they did amazing things as responsible servants of Christ.
Talk about the end of the age is intended to motivate my daily existence. It is not “pie-in-the-sky,” and it is not just for some fuzzy day in the future. It moved the disciples to action, and it should move us to action as well. Paul tells Titus that God trains “us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:12-13). Peter tells persecuted Christians they ought to live “lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God” (2 Peter 3:11-12). And John tells us this: “but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure” (1 John 3:2-3).
Let’s give Jesus the final word. And what I say to you I say everyone who comes after you: Stay awake!
Mark 13 is a fascinating chapter for expected and unexpected reasons. It captures our attention for the expected reasons: Jesus talks about the end of the age, the coming of the Son of Man, and references a host of OT prophetic literature. It also captures our attention for unexpected reasons: we learn a great deal about what it means to follow Christ is a world that, at times, seems utterly out of control.
Throughout the chapter Christ tells the disciples the end will not be pretty. Pray you are not infirm or sick or pregnant when that day comes—you need to be able to run. Even the coming of the Son of Man is attended with the darkening of the sun and moon and the falling of the stars. Though it is great and glorious, it is overwhelming. Then, to wrap up the teaching on the signs of the end of the age, Jesus tells a parable.
A master sets up his house, leaves it in the hands of his servants, and leaves. He doesn’t tell the servants when he is coming back, so they must remain awake until he returns to claim his possession. The servants were put in a position of responsibility over the master’s house and needed to stay diligent to watch over it until he comes back. Christ closes the parable with some rather haunting words, “And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake” (vs. 37).
In just a few days the disciples will watch Christ rise off the ground and ascend into heaven leaving them here without his physical presence. At that very moment the disciples become the servants of the parable, responsible for the master’s house until he returns. And did they take that responsibility seriously! Their very real belief that Christ was coming back soon, that they didn’t know when, and that they were responsible until he did turned their world upside down.
Within a generation, the world of their time knew about Jesus Christ. Thomas went as far as India. John and others found themselves in the deserts of Africa. Others made it as far as Europe, and even Paul was trying to get to Spain before his death. Even though the early Christians were the slaves and lower classes of their time, the rest of the world took notice. The disciples of the disciples spent a great deal of time defending their faith against the slander of the Roman citizens who didn’t understand what was happening to their culture.
The disciples and their disciples died and Christ did not return. That means we now stand in the same place they did when Christ first ascended into heaven; we are now the servants in charge of the master’s house. Will we take up the responsibility? Are we prepared to do what the disciples did and turn our world upside down with the Gospel of Jesus Christ? We certainly live in a different world than they did, and our challenges may be different from theirs, but their world was every bit as hostile to and skeptical of Christ. And yet they did amazing things as responsible servants of Christ.
Talk about the end of the age is intended to motivate my daily existence. It is not “pie-in-the-sky,” and it is not just for some fuzzy day in the future. It moved the disciples to action, and it should move us to action as well. Paul tells Titus that God trains “us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ” (Titus 2:12-13). Peter tells persecuted Christians they ought to live “lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God” (2 Peter 3:11-12). And John tells us this: “but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure” (1 John 3:2-3).
Let’s give Jesus the final word. And what I say to you I say everyone who comes after you: Stay awake!
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Widow's Gift: Mark 12:41-44
Mark 12:41-44
The treasury boxes were made of metal, and as a result, you could hear the coins as they dropped in. The wealthy would walk into the temple with their servants in tow, each with a large bag of money to dump into boxes in front of all the awed onlookers. And just before the noisy dumping would begin, a priest would tally the money and make a public note of how much was being given. The larger the total, the louder the noise, the more generous and the more wealthy the giver.
Jesus and his disciples sat there people watching. If we were there with them, it would have been natural to be taken with the large sums of money being given by the pious and devout wealthy and completely miss a simple, poor widow slipping in two pennies. We might have overlooked her, but Jesus didn’t.
After she passed through, Jesus called his disciples around him to give them his perspective on what just happened. We saw what was an often ostentatious display of pious wealth, and what Jesus saw, naturally, was very different. Hear what the Lord says:
“Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put out everything she had, all she had to live on.” (vs. 43-44)
I find it great that she put in “more.” Up to this point we would say she actually put in less than everyone else—literally less than everyone else. But that is not how Jesus saw it. I think the key to Christ’s perspective can be found in one small detail. The widow had two pennies. We would have found it entirely reasonable if she put in one penny, still a great sacrifice for her, and saved the other to eat with the next day. After all, what difference is one penny going to make to the temple? Instead, she gave both—everything she had. What did Jesus see?
I think Jesus saw an act of sacrifice, obedience and worship on her part. Instead of seeing the amount of the gift, he saw what she did as an act for God. She was not hording, grandstanding or strutting. She was giving to God to worship and obey him.
I think we also see God’s ability to make great and amazing things out of small gifts. Here we are, 2000 years later, still marveling over an offering of two pennies. This also helps us understand how the Kingdom of God works. We do not need to wait for the most powerful and wealthy among us to do something for God before something of value can be done. God wants what is in my hand right now, whether it is marvelous or negligible. Never refuse to give because you think it is too small. Never refuse to do because you think it won’t make a difference.
We also see in her offering the fact that giving is an act of service to God first and to people second. When Paul encourages the Corinthians to give, he notes the abundant gifts of the poor and persecuted Macedonians. He says, “they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us” (2 Cor. 8:5). We give in part to make sure our hearts are right with God and that money is not an idol in our lives.
Finally, she is a powerful example of what Jesus asks of his disciples and of what he is about to do himself. She is an unexpected example of discipleship. When Jesus says she, “put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (12:44) that phrase could also be translated, “she gave her whole life.” Jesus called his disciples to leave their life as fishermen behind and follow him. He told them that it would require that they take up their cross and that they would need to lose their life for him in order to find it (8:34-35). And, ultimately, in a couple of days, Jesus is about to give his life on the cross so that we might have life. This poor widow is an stunning example of what it means for me to follow Christ to the cross.
The words of this hymn say it well:
I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness watch and pray,
Find in me thy all in all.”
Jesus paid it all
All to him I owe
Sin had left a crimson stain
He washed it white as snow.
The treasury boxes were made of metal, and as a result, you could hear the coins as they dropped in. The wealthy would walk into the temple with their servants in tow, each with a large bag of money to dump into boxes in front of all the awed onlookers. And just before the noisy dumping would begin, a priest would tally the money and make a public note of how much was being given. The larger the total, the louder the noise, the more generous and the more wealthy the giver.
Jesus and his disciples sat there people watching. If we were there with them, it would have been natural to be taken with the large sums of money being given by the pious and devout wealthy and completely miss a simple, poor widow slipping in two pennies. We might have overlooked her, but Jesus didn’t.
After she passed through, Jesus called his disciples around him to give them his perspective on what just happened. We saw what was an often ostentatious display of pious wealth, and what Jesus saw, naturally, was very different. Hear what the Lord says:
“Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put out everything she had, all she had to live on.” (vs. 43-44)
I find it great that she put in “more.” Up to this point we would say she actually put in less than everyone else—literally less than everyone else. But that is not how Jesus saw it. I think the key to Christ’s perspective can be found in one small detail. The widow had two pennies. We would have found it entirely reasonable if she put in one penny, still a great sacrifice for her, and saved the other to eat with the next day. After all, what difference is one penny going to make to the temple? Instead, she gave both—everything she had. What did Jesus see?
I think Jesus saw an act of sacrifice, obedience and worship on her part. Instead of seeing the amount of the gift, he saw what she did as an act for God. She was not hording, grandstanding or strutting. She was giving to God to worship and obey him.
I think we also see God’s ability to make great and amazing things out of small gifts. Here we are, 2000 years later, still marveling over an offering of two pennies. This also helps us understand how the Kingdom of God works. We do not need to wait for the most powerful and wealthy among us to do something for God before something of value can be done. God wants what is in my hand right now, whether it is marvelous or negligible. Never refuse to give because you think it is too small. Never refuse to do because you think it won’t make a difference.
We also see in her offering the fact that giving is an act of service to God first and to people second. When Paul encourages the Corinthians to give, he notes the abundant gifts of the poor and persecuted Macedonians. He says, “they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us” (2 Cor. 8:5). We give in part to make sure our hearts are right with God and that money is not an idol in our lives.
Finally, she is a powerful example of what Jesus asks of his disciples and of what he is about to do himself. She is an unexpected example of discipleship. When Jesus says she, “put in everything she had, all she had to live on” (12:44) that phrase could also be translated, “she gave her whole life.” Jesus called his disciples to leave their life as fishermen behind and follow him. He told them that it would require that they take up their cross and that they would need to lose their life for him in order to find it (8:34-35). And, ultimately, in a couple of days, Jesus is about to give his life on the cross so that we might have life. This poor widow is an stunning example of what it means for me to follow Christ to the cross.
The words of this hymn say it well:
I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness watch and pray,
Find in me thy all in all.”
Jesus paid it all
All to him I owe
Sin had left a crimson stain
He washed it white as snow.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Power and the Kingdom: Mark 10:32-45
Mark 10:32-45
Jesus told his disciples they knew very well how power works in this world. Without a doubt, they were painfully aware of how Roman power worked, and even how the power structures of the chief priests and scribes worked. In fact, all of it worked against them and their Master.
“You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them.” (10:42)
Movement in this world requires grabs for power and position, hunting for personal importance and reputation, and discovering who my subordinates are. But movement in the Kingdom of God is very different.
“But it shall not be so among you.” (10:43)
Following the example of Jesus means we learn to serve before we control; we learn to be “slave of all” before we assert our personal importance; we learn to be led before we lead.
This issue resulted from the third time Jesus predicted His death, and the third time the disciples took it to grab for importance. The first time, Peter actually rebuked Jesus. The second time, the disciples argued in whispers about which of them was the greatest. The third time, James and John simply came out with it—they were the most important of the disciples and they wanted Jesus to assure them of their positions.
We learn very quickly through these three conversations that the disciples’ view of Jesus was still more conditioned by the culture around them—the kingdom of this world—than it was by Jesus Himself and His Kingdom. And because they related to Jesus with the wrong set of ideas in their hearts and minds, they easily fell into at least three traps. Because of their grasp for earthly power and position, they misunderstood Jesus, manipulated Jesus, and mistreated their fellow disciples.
The disciples misunderstood the life and example of Jesus. In fact, they misunderstood his very vocabulary. Jesus told them they were on their way to Jerusalem where he would die and rise on the third day (10:33-34), and instead of offering their sympathy, aid, or even being honest about their confusion or fear, they wanted to know which of them would rule as His greatest assistant in the Kingdom. Jesus is explaining to them that He is on His way to the greatest act of sacrifice and service the world has ever seen, and they are busy picking out thrones.
The depth of their misunderstanding even caused them to try to manipulate Jesus. Before they spring the request (“Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory”), they try and bait Jesus by asking Him to do whatever they ask of Him. But before we come down too hard on disciples manipulating their relationship with Jesus, we need to come face-to-face with how often we do it. Have you ever used the name or authority of God to get your way and silence other people? Do you only relate to God when you need Him to do something for you?
And then, when the other disciples heard of their request, they became angry with James and John. Why? Because their grab for power not only raised them above their companions, it lowered the others—the rest of the disciples were mistreated. It became clear that James and John considered themselves as more important than the other disciples. The problem with that, and Jesus makes this clear, is that it is exactly the opposite of His example to us, and desire for our lives.
Followers of Christ cannot wield power the way this world does. We are not concerned with influence, fame, prestige or control the way this world is. Instead, we follow in the footsteps of an incarnate Savior who conquered death and hell by going through the cross, and the examples of the apostles who overturned their world by following His lead. Divine wisdom teaches us to leave matters as small and corrupting as power and control to the workings of this world, and to follow the way of Jesus.
Jesus told his disciples they knew very well how power works in this world. Without a doubt, they were painfully aware of how Roman power worked, and even how the power structures of the chief priests and scribes worked. In fact, all of it worked against them and their Master.
“You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them.” (10:42)
Movement in this world requires grabs for power and position, hunting for personal importance and reputation, and discovering who my subordinates are. But movement in the Kingdom of God is very different.
“But it shall not be so among you.” (10:43)
Following the example of Jesus means we learn to serve before we control; we learn to be “slave of all” before we assert our personal importance; we learn to be led before we lead.
This issue resulted from the third time Jesus predicted His death, and the third time the disciples took it to grab for importance. The first time, Peter actually rebuked Jesus. The second time, the disciples argued in whispers about which of them was the greatest. The third time, James and John simply came out with it—they were the most important of the disciples and they wanted Jesus to assure them of their positions.
We learn very quickly through these three conversations that the disciples’ view of Jesus was still more conditioned by the culture around them—the kingdom of this world—than it was by Jesus Himself and His Kingdom. And because they related to Jesus with the wrong set of ideas in their hearts and minds, they easily fell into at least three traps. Because of their grasp for earthly power and position, they misunderstood Jesus, manipulated Jesus, and mistreated their fellow disciples.
The disciples misunderstood the life and example of Jesus. In fact, they misunderstood his very vocabulary. Jesus told them they were on their way to Jerusalem where he would die and rise on the third day (10:33-34), and instead of offering their sympathy, aid, or even being honest about their confusion or fear, they wanted to know which of them would rule as His greatest assistant in the Kingdom. Jesus is explaining to them that He is on His way to the greatest act of sacrifice and service the world has ever seen, and they are busy picking out thrones.
The depth of their misunderstanding even caused them to try to manipulate Jesus. Before they spring the request (“Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory”), they try and bait Jesus by asking Him to do whatever they ask of Him. But before we come down too hard on disciples manipulating their relationship with Jesus, we need to come face-to-face with how often we do it. Have you ever used the name or authority of God to get your way and silence other people? Do you only relate to God when you need Him to do something for you?
And then, when the other disciples heard of their request, they became angry with James and John. Why? Because their grab for power not only raised them above their companions, it lowered the others—the rest of the disciples were mistreated. It became clear that James and John considered themselves as more important than the other disciples. The problem with that, and Jesus makes this clear, is that it is exactly the opposite of His example to us, and desire for our lives.
Followers of Christ cannot wield power the way this world does. We are not concerned with influence, fame, prestige or control the way this world is. Instead, we follow in the footsteps of an incarnate Savior who conquered death and hell by going through the cross, and the examples of the apostles who overturned their world by following His lead. Divine wisdom teaches us to leave matters as small and corrupting as power and control to the workings of this world, and to follow the way of Jesus.
Friday, May 30, 2008
The Expansive Kingdom of God: Mark 9:38-41
Mark 9:38-41
When we approach our discipleship in Christ, we can ask ourselves what it means for us to follow Christ in the context God placed us with the gifts and resources He has given us. And as Jesus walks to Jerusalem with His disciples, they all deal with those kinds of issues. But at one point, another kind of question arises: what does it mean for others to follow Christ?
When we put that question out there, it almost seems a little simplistic, even silly. But, we quickly discover, there is a lot to it.
John the apostle comes across some people doing things that he assumed only he and the other apostles had the right to do.
“Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not with us.” (vs. 38)
There are a few important keys to John’s statement. First, the person he tried to stop was casting out demons in the name of Jesus. They were not self-styled messiahs, and they were not Scribes and Pharisees. They were followers of Jesus, just not part of the inner circle. Secondly, they were successfully casting out demons. Just a few days earlier the disciples were bested by a demon in a little boy, and Jesus came to their rescue (9:16-18). There might a twinge of jealously in John’s words. And thirdly, John’s ultimate complaint was that the unnamed disciple was not following “us.” He should have said, “you.”
Though Jesus was teaching them that to follow Him meant that they needed to become “the least of all and servant of all” (9:35), John and others of the disciples still saw discipleship as a position of privilege, prominence and even power.
The core of Christ’s response leads us straight to the critical factor in what it means for any of us to be disciples of Christ:
“For the one who is not against us is for us.” (vs. 40)
In the context of people performing miracles in the name of Christ, Jesus radically expands John’s view of the Kingdom. The critical factor in following Jesus is not the clique we belong to, but the person we follow.
Paul learned and taught this lesson in a vivid passage in Philippians 1:15-18. There he notes that while he is in prison, there are some who preach Christ to make him feel even worse, and there are some who preach Christ out of all the right motives. How does this make Paul feel? “What then? Whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice.” Later on, Paul addresses those who preach but don’t preach Christ, and calls them “dogs.”
John’s words are often in the hearts and minds of your average Christian. We can get caught up in how “we” do things, and how well “we” do things, and we mistake the gift of discipleship for our own cleverness. I firmly believe that when God places you in a church, you should plant yourself there and become a productive member of that body. But our attitude should always be one of brotherhood.
The critical factor in the universal body of Christ is Jesus Himself. If he is proclaimed and taught, then we all rejoice as the Kingdom of God is revealed to the hearts of men and women. “I” and “we” are not the important thing; that position belongs to Christ alone.
When we approach our discipleship in Christ, we can ask ourselves what it means for us to follow Christ in the context God placed us with the gifts and resources He has given us. And as Jesus walks to Jerusalem with His disciples, they all deal with those kinds of issues. But at one point, another kind of question arises: what does it mean for others to follow Christ?
When we put that question out there, it almost seems a little simplistic, even silly. But, we quickly discover, there is a lot to it.
John the apostle comes across some people doing things that he assumed only he and the other apostles had the right to do.
“Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not with us.” (vs. 38)
There are a few important keys to John’s statement. First, the person he tried to stop was casting out demons in the name of Jesus. They were not self-styled messiahs, and they were not Scribes and Pharisees. They were followers of Jesus, just not part of the inner circle. Secondly, they were successfully casting out demons. Just a few days earlier the disciples were bested by a demon in a little boy, and Jesus came to their rescue (9:16-18). There might a twinge of jealously in John’s words. And thirdly, John’s ultimate complaint was that the unnamed disciple was not following “us.” He should have said, “you.”
Though Jesus was teaching them that to follow Him meant that they needed to become “the least of all and servant of all” (9:35), John and others of the disciples still saw discipleship as a position of privilege, prominence and even power.
The core of Christ’s response leads us straight to the critical factor in what it means for any of us to be disciples of Christ:
“For the one who is not against us is for us.” (vs. 40)
In the context of people performing miracles in the name of Christ, Jesus radically expands John’s view of the Kingdom. The critical factor in following Jesus is not the clique we belong to, but the person we follow.
Paul learned and taught this lesson in a vivid passage in Philippians 1:15-18. There he notes that while he is in prison, there are some who preach Christ to make him feel even worse, and there are some who preach Christ out of all the right motives. How does this make Paul feel? “What then? Whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice.” Later on, Paul addresses those who preach but don’t preach Christ, and calls them “dogs.”
John’s words are often in the hearts and minds of your average Christian. We can get caught up in how “we” do things, and how well “we” do things, and we mistake the gift of discipleship for our own cleverness. I firmly believe that when God places you in a church, you should plant yourself there and become a productive member of that body. But our attitude should always be one of brotherhood.
The critical factor in the universal body of Christ is Jesus Himself. If he is proclaimed and taught, then we all rejoice as the Kingdom of God is revealed to the hearts of men and women. “I” and “we” are not the important thing; that position belongs to Christ alone.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
I Believe, Lord, Help My Unbelief! Mark 9:16-27
Mark 9:16-27
After Jesus and the disciples spent the night on the top of the mountain of transfiguration, they returned to earth and found the rest of the disciples embroiled in a heated argument with several scribes. On the mountain, three of the disciples beheld Jesus in all of his divine glory and were moved to worship. But after the mountain-top experience was over, it was time to reenter normal life.
As Jesus and the three gather with the other disciples, we find them in an awkward and even embarrassing situation. A father brought his demonized child to Jesus, and when he saw only the disciples he asked them to pray for the healing of his child. The disciples prayed, nothing happened, and the scribes pounced. In the middle of the fracas the father and his boy were pushed aside until Jesus arrived.
The ensuing conversation is only recorded in Mark’s gospel, and though Jesus does heal the boy, the heart of this story is not the healing. What is said between Jesus and the father is a beautiful and profound insight into the person of Jesus Christ.
The father goes into great detail describing to Jesus not only the failure of the disciples, but the depth of his child’s condition. He is deaf and mute, he has seizures and fits of paralysis, the demon attempts to take his life by drowning or burning, and this has been happening since he was a little child. It is hard to imagine the pain and desperation of this father as he holds his child in his arms before Jesus. At the end of the description he asks for Jesus’ help.
“But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” (vs. 22)
Jesus tells him that anything is possible to those who believe. The question at hand is not whether Jesus is able to heal the boy, but whether the father thinks he is able to. The father’s response is priceless.
“I believe; help my unbelief!” (vs. 24)
He has just enough faith to bring his child to Jesus, but he is intensely aware that there is still a lot of doubt and disbelief in him. So, how does Jesus respond to a broken father who can only express a broken faith? He heals his son!
Jesus does not tell him to go away and return when he has more of life and faith put together; he does not turn away a man who does not have it all figured out. As Isaiah put it in 42:3, he did not bruise a broken reed, he did not snuff out a smoldering wick.
This is the Jesus I have fallen in love with. This is a Jesus who takes the small seed of faith buried in a pile of hurt and doubt, and wraps the father and son in his arms. Don’t let any of your doubt or pain keep you from Jesus. He will not turn you away because you are far from perfect; on the contrary, he wants you no matter your doubt or disbelief.
After Jesus and the disciples spent the night on the top of the mountain of transfiguration, they returned to earth and found the rest of the disciples embroiled in a heated argument with several scribes. On the mountain, three of the disciples beheld Jesus in all of his divine glory and were moved to worship. But after the mountain-top experience was over, it was time to reenter normal life.
As Jesus and the three gather with the other disciples, we find them in an awkward and even embarrassing situation. A father brought his demonized child to Jesus, and when he saw only the disciples he asked them to pray for the healing of his child. The disciples prayed, nothing happened, and the scribes pounced. In the middle of the fracas the father and his boy were pushed aside until Jesus arrived.
The ensuing conversation is only recorded in Mark’s gospel, and though Jesus does heal the boy, the heart of this story is not the healing. What is said between Jesus and the father is a beautiful and profound insight into the person of Jesus Christ.
The father goes into great detail describing to Jesus not only the failure of the disciples, but the depth of his child’s condition. He is deaf and mute, he has seizures and fits of paralysis, the demon attempts to take his life by drowning or burning, and this has been happening since he was a little child. It is hard to imagine the pain and desperation of this father as he holds his child in his arms before Jesus. At the end of the description he asks for Jesus’ help.
“But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” (vs. 22)
Jesus tells him that anything is possible to those who believe. The question at hand is not whether Jesus is able to heal the boy, but whether the father thinks he is able to. The father’s response is priceless.
“I believe; help my unbelief!” (vs. 24)
He has just enough faith to bring his child to Jesus, but he is intensely aware that there is still a lot of doubt and disbelief in him. So, how does Jesus respond to a broken father who can only express a broken faith? He heals his son!
Jesus does not tell him to go away and return when he has more of life and faith put together; he does not turn away a man who does not have it all figured out. As Isaiah put it in 42:3, he did not bruise a broken reed, he did not snuff out a smoldering wick.
This is the Jesus I have fallen in love with. This is a Jesus who takes the small seed of faith buried in a pile of hurt and doubt, and wraps the father and son in his arms. Don’t let any of your doubt or pain keep you from Jesus. He will not turn you away because you are far from perfect; on the contrary, he wants you no matter your doubt or disbelief.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Listen to Him: Mark 9:7
Mark 9:7
On the mountain of transfiguration, God chose to speak directly to the disciples. True, Jesus has been walking and talking with them for months by this time, but this was undoubtedly a distinct and powerful moment when the disciples heard the voice of God from heaven. So, what did God chose in that moment to tell them?
Jesus had just been transfigured before their very eyes. His flesh and blood had “fallen off” for a few moments while the disciples were allowed to see the glory of God in the person of Jesus Christ. What Jesus was trying to teach them through his words and deeds, they now literally saw face to face. And for the disciples, it was a transforming moment as well (2 Peter 1:16-19; John 1:14).
In this context God says, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.”
God emphasized to the three followers of Jesus Christ the utmost importance of listening to Jesus Christ. Jesus is the embodiment of the truth of God. Through the life of Jesus Christ, God is communicating to us what he wants us to know about himself and about ourselves. If we listen to Jesus, we hear the words and heart of God.
Look at it like this. We sound like whom we listen to. Our vocabulary is formed and shaped by the people and things we pay attention to. The categories we use to understand the world are given to us by our daily influences. Whether we think about it or not, our minds, wills and souls are shaped on a daily basis by what we chose to listen to.
I still remember a friend in the Fourth Grade who cussed like a drunken sailor. Back then it was unlikely he was watching TV shows that sounded like that, but he was getting his vocabulary from somewhere. And I doubt he came out of the womb with a blue vocabulary. By the time he was 10 years old, his view on reality was already formed and shaped by his influences. He already had a view of women, teachers, authority, men, and life in general, and it was all deeply malformed and dysfunctional.
The Psalmist saw the dangers of our influences, and prayed powerfully for his attention to be drawn to other, more healthy sources. In Psalm 119:33-40 he prays things like, “Lead me in the path of your commandments…Incline my heart to your testimonies…Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things.” And why does the Psalmist want this? He knows God will give him, “life in your ways…for your rules are good…in your righteousness give me life.”
We can chose to let the corrupt and rebellious things of this world to shape us into who we will become, or we can allow the words and truth of God to make us like his Son, Jesus Christ. In this decision, there is goodness, righteousness and life. This is a powerful argument for reading and memorizing Scripture, praying, being an active part of the Body of Christ, and for engaging in the spiritual disciplines. As we do these kinds of things, we obey the voice from heaven.
Listen to Him.
On the mountain of transfiguration, God chose to speak directly to the disciples. True, Jesus has been walking and talking with them for months by this time, but this was undoubtedly a distinct and powerful moment when the disciples heard the voice of God from heaven. So, what did God chose in that moment to tell them?
Jesus had just been transfigured before their very eyes. His flesh and blood had “fallen off” for a few moments while the disciples were allowed to see the glory of God in the person of Jesus Christ. What Jesus was trying to teach them through his words and deeds, they now literally saw face to face. And for the disciples, it was a transforming moment as well (2 Peter 1:16-19; John 1:14).
In this context God says, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.”
God emphasized to the three followers of Jesus Christ the utmost importance of listening to Jesus Christ. Jesus is the embodiment of the truth of God. Through the life of Jesus Christ, God is communicating to us what he wants us to know about himself and about ourselves. If we listen to Jesus, we hear the words and heart of God.
Look at it like this. We sound like whom we listen to. Our vocabulary is formed and shaped by the people and things we pay attention to. The categories we use to understand the world are given to us by our daily influences. Whether we think about it or not, our minds, wills and souls are shaped on a daily basis by what we chose to listen to.
I still remember a friend in the Fourth Grade who cussed like a drunken sailor. Back then it was unlikely he was watching TV shows that sounded like that, but he was getting his vocabulary from somewhere. And I doubt he came out of the womb with a blue vocabulary. By the time he was 10 years old, his view on reality was already formed and shaped by his influences. He already had a view of women, teachers, authority, men, and life in general, and it was all deeply malformed and dysfunctional.
The Psalmist saw the dangers of our influences, and prayed powerfully for his attention to be drawn to other, more healthy sources. In Psalm 119:33-40 he prays things like, “Lead me in the path of your commandments…Incline my heart to your testimonies…Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things.” And why does the Psalmist want this? He knows God will give him, “life in your ways…for your rules are good…in your righteousness give me life.”
We can chose to let the corrupt and rebellious things of this world to shape us into who we will become, or we can allow the words and truth of God to make us like his Son, Jesus Christ. In this decision, there is goodness, righteousness and life. This is a powerful argument for reading and memorizing Scripture, praying, being an active part of the Body of Christ, and for engaging in the spiritual disciplines. As we do these kinds of things, we obey the voice from heaven.
Listen to Him.
Monday, January 7, 2008
You Feed Them: Mark 6:30-44
Mark 6:35-44
The conversations between Jesus and his disciples are often very revealing. To my benefit, the disciples are far from perfect, but always honest. To my greater benefit, Jesus is ready to take the disciples by the hand and help them understand.
Imagine the scene of Mark 6. Thousands of people—a crowd larger than any of the surrounding towns—has been listening to Jesus teach all day long. It is getting late and they need to eat. The disciples suggest that Jesus break class and let them find their way to food. It is a terrifically practical solution. The disciples are to be praised for thinking of other people ahead of themselves. One is hard pressed to find something wrong with it.
So Jesus says, “You feed them.”
The disciples respond, “You can’t be serious.” Jesus clarifies, “Oh yes, I am.”
Those may not be the exact words, but it is the tone of the conversation. In the face of their sincere practicality, Jesus asks the disciples to do something seemingly impossible. They see with one pair of eyes and one way of understanding, and Jesus is ready to change all that. When Jesus tells the disciples to feed the crowd, his theology comes into direct conflict with their practicality.
To demonstrate what he is after, Jesus asks for a really interesting thing. The disciples made it clear that they don’t have the resources to accomplish such a daunting task—it would take a year’s wages. Jesus asks them to bring him what they do have.
All they can scrape together is a meager five loaves of bread and two small fish. The situation is getting ridiculous. They are no closer to feeing the people than when this all started. Then they give the bread to Jesus.
Jesus took the bread, blessed it, and broke it, and broke it, and broke it. Not only did everyone get something to eat, everyone was completely filled and there were twelve baskets left over. There were not piles and piles of bread and fish left over, there was just enough for each imminently practical disciple to be left carrying a basket full of impossibility.
There is more power in our simple, humble gifts in the hands of Jesus than there is in a full year’s wages. There is more power in whatever meager thing I have to give Jesus than in all the sincere and good deeds I could muster through a productive and lengthy life. The catch is, I need to give whatever it is I have to Jesus.
Jesus does not ask me for what I do not have. Jesus does not ask me to become someone I am not before divine and meaningful things can happen. Jesus asks me for whatever it is in my hand to give him. It may even just be my brokenness, but He asks for it.
Give it to him. Then let him do with it what only he can do.
The conversations between Jesus and his disciples are often very revealing. To my benefit, the disciples are far from perfect, but always honest. To my greater benefit, Jesus is ready to take the disciples by the hand and help them understand.
Imagine the scene of Mark 6. Thousands of people—a crowd larger than any of the surrounding towns—has been listening to Jesus teach all day long. It is getting late and they need to eat. The disciples suggest that Jesus break class and let them find their way to food. It is a terrifically practical solution. The disciples are to be praised for thinking of other people ahead of themselves. One is hard pressed to find something wrong with it.
So Jesus says, “You feed them.”
The disciples respond, “You can’t be serious.” Jesus clarifies, “Oh yes, I am.”
Those may not be the exact words, but it is the tone of the conversation. In the face of their sincere practicality, Jesus asks the disciples to do something seemingly impossible. They see with one pair of eyes and one way of understanding, and Jesus is ready to change all that. When Jesus tells the disciples to feed the crowd, his theology comes into direct conflict with their practicality.
To demonstrate what he is after, Jesus asks for a really interesting thing. The disciples made it clear that they don’t have the resources to accomplish such a daunting task—it would take a year’s wages. Jesus asks them to bring him what they do have.
All they can scrape together is a meager five loaves of bread and two small fish. The situation is getting ridiculous. They are no closer to feeing the people than when this all started. Then they give the bread to Jesus.
Jesus took the bread, blessed it, and broke it, and broke it, and broke it. Not only did everyone get something to eat, everyone was completely filled and there were twelve baskets left over. There were not piles and piles of bread and fish left over, there was just enough for each imminently practical disciple to be left carrying a basket full of impossibility.
There is more power in our simple, humble gifts in the hands of Jesus than there is in a full year’s wages. There is more power in whatever meager thing I have to give Jesus than in all the sincere and good deeds I could muster through a productive and lengthy life. The catch is, I need to give whatever it is I have to Jesus.
Jesus does not ask me for what I do not have. Jesus does not ask me to become someone I am not before divine and meaningful things can happen. Jesus asks me for whatever it is in my hand to give him. It may even just be my brokenness, but He asks for it.
Give it to him. Then let him do with it what only he can do.
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