Grace

God’s grace never ceases to amaze me. Yesterday, in Luke 7.36-50, we witnessed Jesus’ grace being extended to two different people. First, Jesus is extending grace to Simon, the Pharisee, by eating at his house. We need to remember that in first-century Palestine one did not eat with just anyone. Eating was a way of extending friendship and intimacy to another person. Jesus not only ate with sinners but also with Pharisees, as this text indicates. Second, there is the uninvited guest, a woman, a notorious sinner in town. She’s desperate. She breaks down upon seeing Jesus. Not being prepared for this, she dries off his feet with her hair, anoints his feet with perfume, and then proceeds to kiss them. Jesus forgives her and sends her in peace. Simon doesn’t get it. It’s offensive to him. Jesus reminds him that the one who is forgiven little loves little. We should interpret that verse with some irony. Jesus isn’t telling Simon to go out and sin so he can appreciate god’s forgiveness. Rather Jesus is saying that Simon doesn’t really see his need. He’s full of himself. More than likely, he suffers from pride of virtue. He doesn’t see how sinful his condemnation and judgmental spirit is. So in this text there is that typical divine reversal so characteristic of Luke’s gospel: The poor are filled; the rich are sent away empty. Both receive grace. Only one sees the need and therefore appropriates the healing grace of Christ. It might be true of us. Perhaps the only thing we lack is the one thing necessary to freedom, acknowledging that we can’t stand in God’s presence on our own merits; we need a Savior. Peace!

Wallflowers

I’m writing in the midst our VBS, so my thoughts might be scattered and my grammar worse than normal. Your grace will be greatly appreciated.

Yesterday, we looked at Luke 7.31-35. Jesus compares the religious leaders, who “rejected God’s purposes for themselves” (vs. 30), to children who are in the marketplace calling to one another: “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge and you did not cry.” More than likely, this expression was used by children to taunt those who refused to participate in the games being played. In other words, Jesus believed these religious leaders were like wallflowers; they refused to dance to the music of God’s kingdom. Like all wallflowers they had their excuses: John the Baptist, he’s too strict; Jesus, he’s too liberal (vs. 33-34). They could not make room in their life for the newness of the Kingdom. The Kingdom embodied in Jesus didn’t (couldn’t fit?) into their understanding of reality.

What does this say to us? Or perhaps a better question is, in what ways might we end up as wallflowers, refusing to join in the movement of God’s grace and truth revealed in Jesus? I see three temptations in our world. First is the I’m-not-going-to-commit-to-anything temptation. Many people in our post-modern world refuse to commit to anything; they don’t want to take anything too seriously. They fail to recognize that not being committed is a commitment, a commitment to the belief that one should not commit to anything. Thus, they don’t want to stand anywhere. They refuse to commit because they don’t want to submit to any one thing, so they stand on the perimeter, refusing to dance. Second is the Christianity-must-be-relevant-to-my-life temptation. Christianity must fit into what I want to accomplish. Many seem to be saying, I have my dreams and goals, now show me what can Christianity do for me. I believe otherwise. I’m not half as concerned with making Christianity relevant to the modern the world as I’m with trying to form a people who will be relevant to God’s kingdom. But many who want Christianity to be relevant to their perceived needs might refuse to dance unless it fits into what they want to accomplish. It’s as if we’re asking God to repent and embrace what we want to do, which is contrary to the message of Jesus—“The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news” (Mark 1.15). Third, in a consumeristic world, many believe Christianity needs to meet my needs. Some come to church and Christianity with a list of demands: Make it a good show, give me a thrilling sermon, make me happy. Then if it doesn’t meet their expectations, they check out, they become wallflowers refusing to dance to the music of God’s kingdom. In all of these ways, and in many more, we can end up refusing to let the music of the kingdom transform us. Something to think about. Peace.

The Compassionate Christ

Yesterday we looked at a very brief scene in Luke’s gospel—the raising of the widow’s dead son (Luke 7.11-17). In that story there is a collision of processions. One procession is trying to leave the city of Nain to bury the boy; the other procession, lead by Jesus, is trying to enter the city. In this collision—and perhaps chaos—Jesus sees the widow in all of her need. NIV (New International Version) says, “his heart went out to her.” But in Greek (the original language of the New Testament) it’s one word, splachnizomai. The word depicts a gut-wrenching compassion (cf. Acts 1.18; Matthew 9.36). Jesus hurt for this woman, so he acted. He raised the boy from the dead and gave the boy back to the widow. Her lot in life improved because she encountered Christ in all of his compassion.

Great story! But what does it mean for us today. I did not know for sure what direction to take the text. I wrestled with it for quite some time. On the one hand, I could talk about physical healing, which I believe in. Yet, any talk of physical healing opens up a host of complicated questions. I also believe that there is a more urgent healing—a healing of that which separates us from God and keeps us from living out the dream he dreams for our lives.

This is the direction I took yesterday, in part, because of some of the reading I’m doing right now on Eastern Orthodox Theology, suggesting that the goal in life is union with God and everything that happens to us—good or bad—is to be viewed as something directing us to this goal. I then suggested we need to be healed from any sin that remains in our life. Is there a more urgent healing than that? I can’t think of any. So we need to confess, own up, and let God’s grace begin to transform us. Christ in all of his compassion doesn't condemn us, he convicts us and empowers us to move forward in his strength.

I also suggested that we need to be healed from any emotional baggage that keeps us from loving God and practicing neighborly care—the type of emotional stuff that keeps us in bondage, not the normal everyday anxiety, fear, and sadness that characterizes our life this side of heaven. Sometimes, not always, we experience immobilizing emotional baggage because we are pursuing all the wrong stuff; we’re idolaters, in other words. I don’t mean that to be a blanket statement; it isn’t. It might not fit for you, but it certainly fits for me occasionally. My suggestion if you’re overwhelmed with emotional baggage: get some counseling, and at the time, consider whether or not the emotional baggage is there because your love is disordered (you’re loving all the wrong things). Again, that's not a cure-all, but it's true some of the time. Again, Christ in all of his compassion wants to guide us with his yoke which is easier than any other yoke we might be currently wearing.

Anyway, you get the point. We should submit ourselves to this Jesus in whom there is nothing but love and compassion, knowing that he wants to heal us so that we can love God and love others as we have been called to do. Peace!

The Marriage of Heaven and Earth--John 14.12

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also . . .” proclaims Jesus (John 14.12, NASB). As I said yesterday these words are startling; they should arrest our attention. Why? Because this not the way most people think about faith. Many people talk about faith as if it’s only some sort of private and personal commitment. Many assume faith is relegated exclusively to the soul or spirit but has little to do with our public life. Many of our metaphors we employ in the church suggest that the only way to experience salvation is to be rescued from this world and have our spirits whisked away to some sort of spiritual existence far from anything we currently know. This language unintentionally drives wedges between faith and works, behavior and belief, soul and body, spirit and matter. Naturally, in such a worldview as this, many conclude faith is just a private, spiritual commitment that guarantees some sort of existence for the afterlife.

Jesus thinks differently as this verse suggests. He’s apart of a great tradition, a very worldly religious perspective that reaches back into the Old Testament. Think about it: in the Exodus, God liberates people to be a new nation that embraces the politics of liberation; they are to embrace--as I read it through the life of Jesus--a politics of compassion and justice. In the same vein the prophets teach us that this is the way to interpret the Law. The prophets call the people of God to embrace a compassionate justice and a righteousness defined by neighborly care. Jesus is part of this great tradition. He talks about God’s coming kingdom, a kingdom that is breaking into history. (If you’re struggling with the word Kingdom, think dream. God has a dream to reclaim all of creation with his light and love. The dream starts with Abraham and ends with a new heaven and new earth so beautifully depicted in Revelation). So he calls us to repent, which does not necessarily mean go to an altar, feel real bad, and receive forgiveness so that you can go about your own business. Repent means to turn around; change your mind in light of this new reality—God’s coming kingdom. This is Jesus’ approach to faith. That’s why he can say without apology or without explanation, the one who believes in me will keep doing what I have been doing. He can say that because he doesn’t want to drive wedges between faith and works, between belief and behavior, between heaven and earth. They can’t be separated. To believe is to embrace a new way of living. To have faith is follow the Christ. Salvation is not an escape from this world but a call to participate in the dream that God is dreaming for this world. As N.T. Wright is fond of pointing out, Christianity doesn’t envision a divorce between heaven and earth but a marriage between the two. Christ-followers participate in this marriage now, giving witness to what God wants to accomplish. In other words, we are now a part of the great story of redemption: God has loved the world through Israel’s messiah—Jesus; Jesus has now ascended to the father, where he intercedes for us; the Spirit is now empowering us to live and love like Jesus. Peace!