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.
Monday, November 3, 2008
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.
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