Doing Your Father’s Business

     Luke 2: 41-52

 

 

          There they sat by the curb. They looked like lost sheep. They were my lost sheep. When I was a single parent, I drove my three older children to and from school every day. I was trying to juggle a law practice and make a living and also be a good parent. I remember a couple times when I lost that battle badly.  I arrived at school an hour late to find my three children huddled up, waiting for their dad. I felt like the world’s worst parent. What can you possibly say to your children when you are an hour late?

          I have some old friends who had three children close together. They used to travel to Illinois to visit her parents. On one such trip, they stopped as usual to get gas. They were a couple hours down the road when they realized they were one child short. Imagine how they felt, racing back to that gas station to find their son. This was before the age of cell phones, and all they had was a good sense of geography and a lot of prayer. Everything turned out fine, but think of how much they worried until they saw him again.

          It happens, Life comes at us fast, and sometimes, one parent thinks the other parent has it covered, only to find out that things are not quite as they appeared. I suspect that I and my friends are not the only parents to drop the ball. Has something similar happened to you?

          In fact, it even happened to the Son of God. Of course, at the time, he was also the son of Joseph and Mary. While his heavenly Father never lost him, his earthly parents did. And not for an hour or even a few hours, but for 3 days!

          The second chapter of Luke’s gospel is loaded. We have the Christmas story, but that is only the beginning. Eight days later, baby Jesus is presented at the temple as is the custom, and old Simeon gives the blessing and the announcement that he has seen God’s salvation. Anna the prophetess also gives her blessing. Then the family returns to Nazareth. But Luke is not through. He fast forwards twelve years ahead to give us our only gospel glimpse of Jesus as a boy. It is a telling picture that Luke paints for us.

          Faithful Jews in first century Israel tried to get to the Temple in Jerusalem at least three times a year for the big feasts of Passover, Pentecost and Tabernacles. It was no small feat for Mary and Joseph. It was sixty five miles from Nazareth to Jerusalem. That was normally a three day walk.  So for Mary and Joseph and their family to get to Jerusalem for the Passover Feast was a big deal. In this story, Jesus was 12 years old. He may well have had siblings by then, and that would have only made the trip that much more difficult and expensive. It was the custom of the time to journey in a caravan where men and boys traveled together and women and girls, or small children, did the same. A 12 year old boy might have been included in either group.

          Perhaps it was because of Jesus’ middling age that there was some mix-up. It could be that one group thought Jesus to be traveling with the other. Whatever the reason, Mary and Joseph were a day’s journey away from Jerusalem before they realized that Jesus was not with them. Making their way back to Jerusalem took another day and it took a third day to locate Jesus. Three days without the knowledge of their son’s whereabouts, and no missing person’s bureau to report to, no organization to help them hunt, no communications network other than word of mouth.

          Where would you look for your child? If he or she were gone for three days and was last seen in a city flooded by tourists for a feast, where would you look? Of course, you would retrace your steps, but after that fails, then what?  You would look up kinfolk if there were any, but what then? Look in alleys? In the seedy parts of town? Where would you look to find your child?

          Apparently, the temple was not the first place that Mary and Joseph thought of. Perhaps in light of what we now know, it should have been, but Jesus’ earthly parents did not connect that way with him just yet. He was their son. He had done nothing of which we can read to show himself to be the Son of God. There was no apparent reason to seek a twelve year old boy in the temple. But on this trip, if not before, that all changed.

          When we read Luke’s account of Jesus in the temple at 12 years of age, we can easily feel the angst of his parents. Verbs like “astonished” and “distress” and “did not understand” are used to describe their reaction. You know they were worried sick. And then, after a day’s searching all over Jerusalem, they found him in the temple of all places. If your twelve year old son were lost for three days, would you come to this church to look for him? You too might be astonished if you found him here discussing theology with the pastor and the elders, and showing quite a bit of knowledge as well.

          Jesus’ statement to his mother brings the change into focus. “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” The King James translates the line as “wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business? Just like that, the line has been re-drawn. The importance of Jesus’ lineage is now shifting right of front of their very eyes. Jesus must now be about his Father’s business and he isn’t talking about carpentry.

         Maybe this is why Luke’s story is here. It is the only place it is told, the only glimpse in the New Testament that we have of Jesus as a boy. And even in that one snapshot, Luke picks a time of transition. We don’t find Jesus playing or working or even in school. Or do we?  

          Jesus is moving, right in front of our very eyes, from boy to man. Perhaps in a kindness from God himself, Mary is deprived of her son for three days as a sort of preparation for what is about to happen. When she is re-united with Jesus, he is not the same boy who went up to Jerusalem just a week ago. Now, he must be about his Father’s business.

          I get cold chills thinking about the exchange that went on at that moment.  There is the relationship between Jesus and his parents, particularly his mother. It is still tender and obedient and Jesus’ remarks bear that out.  There is also a relationship between Jesus and his heavenly Father. Jesus now clearly has an awareness that he is literally God’s Son, and he is proving that by his presence in the temple. So many emotions were at play. So many revelations were happening. All could have been anticipated, but now here they were. Mary and Joseph can hardly deny that they have a special child indeed. And now, in an instant, everything had changed and it would never be the same.

          The words uttered here by Jesus are his first recorded words. This is the first time we hear him speak. We will not hear him again until he begins his ministry at age 30. It is a short story with little detail. We don’t know where Jesus stayed or how he got by those three days alone. We only know that he was in the temple talking about God and scripture. The story is a glimpse into his life and only a glimpse. It forms a sort of bridge between the events of his birth and his adult ministry.

          Mary are Joseph were perplexed. Luke tells us that they didn’t understand. Here was Mary’s son, telling her he had to be about his father’s business. Kenny Rogers and Wynona Judd recorded a haunting song in 1986 which asks the question: “Mary, did you know.” The song reminds us of all the hopes and dreams that the baby Jesus carried on his tiny shoulders. Mary, did you know? Here, the answer is clearly No, Mary does not know. When the shepherds tell Mary of the tidings of the angels, she “treasures up all these things, pondering them in her heart” [2:19]. When young Jesus tells her he must be about his Father’s business, she “treasures up all these things in her heart” [2:51]. Mary parked these windows of revelation away, waiting for the day when she would understand more. She knew only that she had played a part in the delivery and raising of the Son of God. More than that, she did not know. On that day in the temple, she watched as her oldest son began to claim his destiny and she didn’t understand where it would take him and what it would mean.

          Perhaps what Mary saw most clearly was that not only was her child becoming an adult, but that he was called, called to something greater than manhood. He was called to be about his father’s business, and his father was God himself. And yet as we witness the budding knowledge in the boy-man Jesus of his divinity, we cannot forget that this was happening to someone as human as you and me. He was called. Mary saw that. She didn’t fully understand it, but she saw it. I suspect Joseph did, too. Luke makes it clear to us that Jesus went back home with Mary and Joseph and that he was obedient to them and honored them. But something had changed, and Luke takes note of it.

          It was to be eighteen years before we hear Jesus speak again, and then his conversation is with John the Baptist during his baptism. How many events transpired over those eighteen years of preparation? How many more things had Mary laid up in her heart to treasure and ponder? The Bible does not give us these answers, but in some part, they lie in our own experiences. As surely as Jesus was both sent and called, it is that same Jesus who now calls us. We children of God are not called to save the world. That is a God-sized job. But each of us is here for a purpose. To what are you called?

          Of course there is much more to the life of Jesus than just showing us the way, but if the life of Jesus instructs us in nothing else, it certainly instructs us to be about our Father’s business, to be found in our Father’s house, and this alone is a lesson for the ages. He came for us. He died for us. He lives for us.  

          Sometimes it may take breaking away from the safety of the caravan and even home and hearth to find our way, but God is there, waiting for us. Jesus didn’t run away from home. Far from it. He just began to show his calling. Luke says that “he increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.”  That can happen to us as well. We need only to answer that voice within us. It’s there. Listen to it. Let us, too, be about our Father’s business.

                              What Then Shall We Do?

     Luke 3: 7-18

 

 

          We are in the third week of Advent, the season of preparation for the coming of Christ. This week the theme is Joy, joy for the coming Savior, joy for what his birth means to mankind. The passage for this week from Luke 3, telling of John the Baptist and his quest to baptize his people in repentance of their sins, may leave you wondering if John had heard about the joy.

         John the Baptist is not preaching a sermon of joy. Far from it, He is on a mission and, like so many prophets before him, there is a whole lot more warning than celebration. Last week, we heard John exhort us to prepare the way of the Lord, to make straight his path. This week, John takes off the gloves and punches us bare-knuckled. We are not ready, he says, and we are out of time.

          You brood of vipers! This is the title John assigns to the crowd seeking baptism. Brood of vipers. Vipers are poisonous. They can kill a full grown human. The venom they inject with those stabbing fangs is designed to immobilize their prey. Think about it. Short term, a viper bite will stun you into inaction. Long term, it will eat your flesh from the inside out. John has a point, for sin does about the same thing in about the same way. Short term, sin paralyzes us from walking with God. Long term, it separates us and kills our ability to be saved. It eats at us from the inside out. And John called the crowd a brood, meaning that they were a family group, a species. Sin is like that too. It should offer us little comfort that we all act alike that way, for the way we act can be poisonous.

          You brood of vipers, says John. You family of sinners! What are you doing here? Who warned you? You haven’t acted in a way that would give you a ticket to this event. Why are you here? Do you think being Jewish gives you some sort of free pass? Luke says Jesus was talking to a “crowd.” Matthew tells the same story and has Jesus addressing Pharisees and Sadducees. In each case, these were people leading lives in need of adjustment.

          There is nothing theologically subtle about John’s message. Some call it John’s gospel. That’s not an accurate description. Gospel means good news and John’s message was not good news unless you had lived out the Jewish law both to the letter and the spirit. Few would have come close to that standard. John came preaching repentance or else. Although verse 18 is translated as good news, it is only good in the sense that John is announcing the coming of the Messiah. It was the news of terror that John brought, unless one had been baptized and had repented.

          One commentary I read suggests that John actually refused to baptize these people because they had not repented.  I can’t tell from the text whether that is so, but I can get Luke’s point. Repentance is the act. Baptism is only the sign of that act.  John says to the crowd or to the Pharisees and Sadducees, “Bear fruits in keeping with repentance.” In today’s language, it might be: Put your money where your mouth is. Perhaps it was only the Pharisees and Sadducees who were denied baptism. If that is the case, they heard from John that their kinship with Abraham gave them no special status for salvation. I love John’s answer to that way of thinking He said that if God were in the mood, he could just raise up stones to be sons of Abraham. In other words, God’s power and blessing extend to those who believe in him and are obedient to him, not to some birthright.

          At any rate, there is a change in John’s delivery and message starting in verse 10. The crowds ask John: “What then shall we do?” I get the impression that it is a plaintiff cry, a pleading, reaching out almost in desperation. “What then shall we do?” And John’s tone seems to change. In front of him are the crowds. There are also tax collectors, perhaps the most despised of all, and soldiers, those who enforce the collection of the tax.  All in all, John the Baptist is confronted with the most unlikely of all the people and it is they who are clamoring down to the riverbank to be baptized. Go figure. Where are the religious leaders?

          John reminds those who would be baptized that they must repent and that repentance means change. The lessons are as old as the Scripture itself. What, then, shall we do? Share. Share and don’t cheat. Do you have two coats? Give one away. Do you have extra food?  Feed someone hungry. Make room in your house and offer shelter. Give someone a ride, not just to your workplace, but to his. For the tax collectors, who were engaged in corrupt collection practices, John’s message was equally simple. Don’t take what does not belong to you. Collect only what is due and live within your means.

          Repentance is a simple concept. It means to turn away. Look at who you are and what you do that goes against God’s teachings and quit doing those things. Turn away and change your behavior. Share the wealth. We have more than we need, but there are those who don’t.

          So in this world of John the Baptist, where we are just about out of time and the Messiah is coming not with open arms but with a winnowing fork, who is paying attention?  Who is seeking baptism because they have turned away from their selfishness? It’s not who we would have first thought. It’s not the people with the answers that are being baptized. It’s the people with the questions that are getting baptized.

          That might be a pretty good place to stop with this message. For most of us, repentance just means to turn away from selfishness and greed. It means to turn from a life lived by looking out for number one to a life of sharing with others. It can be as simple as the sharing of food, clothing and shelter, but it is a life of generosity and giving rather than taking.

          What the, shall we do? Don’t despair. We’re just like those people in the crowd. Let’s all go down to the riverbank and tell John that we get it. We can give that other coat away and we can do a lot more than bring in a few extra cans. We can find the “good news” that Luke 3: 18 was talking about. John the Baptist did preach a message of fire to those who held back and relied on themselves. But for those who came forward out of repentance, they found their baptism. Maybe that’s the joy for which we are searching in this 3^rd Sunday of Advent. When you turn away from the things that separate you from God, you find him standing there waiting for you.

           What then, shall we do? Let’s take John’s advice. Let’s repent and claim our baptism! Let’s live as if our Savior is coming tomorrow, for he may very well be!

                        Preparing the Way of the Lord

     Luke 3: 1-6

 

 

          “A voice cries: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our Lord.” This is part of a passage from the 40^th chapter of Isaiah, where the great prophet begins his prediction of the future. Unlike most of the prophetic books of the Old Testament which tell of God’s message in their contemporary situation, the latter part of Isaiah focuses on the future. Isaiah looks down the long road to come. He sees God upholding his own cause with a world-transforming display of his glory. Isaiah aims his vision at such an event, the time when the way of the Lord will be revealed, when the King will come.

          John the Baptist is a lot like Isaiah. He looks like he came out of the woods. He is not a pretty sight. Isaiah wasn’t either. The Old Testament prophet once went naked for three years and pulled out his hair to make his point. The new one wears a garment made of camel’s hair, rough to the touch, and eats bugs for his nourishment. These are not your average seminary products. John is like Isaiah in more ways than one.  Like Isaiah, he is setting the table for another. Both are prophets, heralding the coming of the real thing.

          So in Luke 1, John the Baptist is the new prophet and he quotes Isaiah: “The voice of one crying in the wilderness; Prepare the way of the Lord.” Luke uses more references to people and kings in this passage than in any other place in his writings. He does so because he wants everyone to see the significance, to mark the date. Jesus is coming not just for the people of Israel, but for everyone. Luke is connecting the old with the new, but John’s prophecy is more than Isaiah’s. John is the herald, the announcer, not just the prophet. No matter who your king is, the real king is about to be introduced, and that is the job of John the Baptist. He would help smooth the way, prepare it for the Son of God. John’s call had worldwide significance, for the Savior was coming for all people.

          Luke tells us that the word of God came to John. The same words are used to describe God speaking to Samuel (1 Sam. 15: 10), to Jeremiah (1:4), to Ezekiel (1:3), to Jonah (1:1), Haggai (1:1), Zechariah (1:1), Malachi (1:1) and others. In each case, God was speaking to his servant, giving him both a vision and a task. The words introduce a special revelation, a revelation received to take to the people. In that same tradition, John the Baptist is sent as God’s prophet, and his proclamation is the “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”

          How do you prepare the way of the Lord? Well, John seems to say that we need to level the field. John says make the path straight. Fill every valley. Lower the mountains and the hills. Straighten out the crooked. Make the rough places level.

          I think about that in practical terms. I like to ride a bicycle for exercise and for recreation, but I like it so much better when the terrain is smooth and fairly flat. I can go farther when the resistance is small. These days, there are bike paths designed for cyclists to move more easily with traffic. It’s as though the valleys have been filled and the mountains leveled. It makes the path straighter. I can see what John the Baptist was getting at. He wanted the path for the coming Savior to be clearly marked, easy to navigate. He wanted to prepare the way.

          When you want cyclists to be able to navigate safely with motorists, you create a bike path. You set aside a space where cyclists can ride. But what do you do when your objective is not just a safe place for a few, but a path for the Savior of mankind? It’s going to take a bigger path for that job. How do you prepare the way of the Lord?

          Prophets like John cry from the wilderness. That is, they are not the most visible, nor do they have the most credibility. They are prophets. If there is one thing that most of the prophets in the bible have in common, it is that they aren’t popular. They come talking about wrongdoing and they call for us to turn away from it, and we would just as soon they didn’t, for we are all too comfortable in our lives. This is not the way to win friends and influence people. The fact that they are right is just incidental information. If they don’t come preaching the message we want to hear, then we tune them out. They are marginalized from the start.

          In addition, John the Baptist is telling the people that the real king is coming. He says that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”   John does not promise salvation for all. Rather he heralds that it will be in sight for all to see. John points to the revelation of the Messiah, the physical manifestation of the Son of God. He goes on to say that the way must be prepared for him. The leveling to which he refers is nothing less than removal of the sin of the people.

The prophets talk in metaphors to tell us what needs to be done. How do you prepare the way of the Lord? Straighten the path, fill the low places, flatten the high places, straighten the crooked, make what is rough become level. It sounds like the prophets are in the grading business, and in a sense they are.

          That’s why John talks in terms of mountains and valleys. That’s why he uses such big terms to describe the grading project, because sin is everywhere. It’s as big as the mountains and as deep as the valleys and if we want God to be able to come to us, there is something we must do. We must be baptized in our repentance if our sins are to be forgiven. This is how we prepare the way of the Lord.

          What do we do to prepare for a royal visitor, a head of state? We make preparations of all kinds, from transportation to security to food and lodging and venues from which to speak and meet. We pull out all the stops to be sure we are ready to receive someone of so much importance in our midst. The ancients did the same for their kings and emperors. In the days of Isaiah, when a king proposed to tour a part of his empire, he sent a courier in advance to tell the people to prepare the roads. In Luke’s gospel, John acts as that courier. John knows he has been called to make way and that is exactly what he is trying to do. In his zest for the job, he thinks back to the visionary words of Isaiah and he attempts to remove the immoveable. Even though he knows that sin has pervaded our lives, he appeals to us to wipe ourselves clean, not only to ask forgiveness but to repent, to turn away. These are the hills to be leveled, the paths to be made straight, in our lives. The result of that repentance is salvation.

          How do you prepare the way of the Lord? Break down the walls. Tear down the fences. John the Baptist was called upon to tell the people, and through that testimony God calls upon us, to prepare our hearts, to prepare our lives. William Barclay says it this way: “The King is coming, Mend not your roads, but your lives.”

         John the Baptist tells us that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”  Of that, we can rest assured. But John does not promise us that all shall receive that salvation. Neither does God. For that, we must prepare the way.

          Are you prepared? You first have to ask forgiveness. You have to turn away from your selfishness and sin. That is how you prepare your way for the Lord. Make straight your path. The King is coming!

      What is Truth?

     John 18: 33-37

 

 

          November 13, 2015. Just nine days ago.  It was Friday night in Paris. In the soccer stadium, eighty thousand people were watching France play world champion Germany. Along the Champs Elise, people were attending a concert, sitting outside in cafes, enjoying a pleasant evening. In less than an hour, multiple attacks at several different sites had taken the lives of 128 innocents across the city. Armed terrorists executed people in the name of ISIS. In the last couple days, ISIS released a propaganda video clearly threatening New York City and Washington, DC, as prime targets. The video featured images of bombs and suicide bombers getting ready for an attack. ISIS does these things in the name of jihad, the Islamic command to maintain its religion through all struggles and against all resistance. For ISIS, the truth is that all secular life, all man made laws, threaten the purity of their religion. It is a narrow reading of the Koran, a reading with which mainstream Muslims disagree.

           This past Friday, November 20, 2015, armed assailants, members of an Islamic militant group with strong links to al Qaeda, attacked the Radisson Hotel in the capital of Mali, a small West African nation, and 21 more people were killed. al Qaeda is another militant religious group that believes that Western influence has eroded the religion of Islam. It has pledged itself to the purification and preservation of Islam by the destruction of other religions and secular influences. This is the religious truth of al Qaeda.

          In the book of John, Jesus is paraded before Pilate to be examined about his religious and political beliefs.  Pilate, the Roman procurator, asks Jesus if he is King of the Jews. This is a political question. If Jesus affirms the claim, he is guilty of treason, an offense punishable by death. For Pilate, it is not a trick question. He is ascertaining the credibility of a threat to the Roman government.

           Both Pilate and Jesus know the facts. The Jewish leaders are headhunting, and Jesus is no criminal. The trouble is that because of several past acts by Pilate for which he was reported to Caesar, his job security is in jeopardy. So while the Jewish leaders are headhunting, Pilate realizes it could his head that they end up with. Pilate and Jesus verbally spar with one another, Pilate hoping for an opening, Jesus using the moment to fulfill God’s will for him. It is Pilate rather than Jesus who is in jeopardy, Pilate rather than Jesus on trial.

          Jesus answers Pilate’s question about kingship. Ignoring the question without dodging it, Jesus says that there is a purpose for which he was born, a reason for which he has come into the world. That purpose is “to bear witness to the truth.” Jesus makes another comment; that those who are of the truth listen to his voice. Now Pilate is more than a little uncomfortable. The light of the world is confronting Pilate and he must decide between light and darkness. Pilate’s answer reflects his disillusionment. He will not allow himself to be confronted. “What is truth?” asks Pilate. What is truth?

          What is truth? The question was not just for Pilate. The question is for you and me. The question is the subject of books. Philosophers and theologians have debated the question for hundreds of years.

         What is truth? In pursuit of its self-anointed truth, al-Qaeda envisions a complete break from all foreign influence, the creation of a worldwide order in which there is only one religion.  The truth for al-Qaeda is that if you don’t believe in its way of doing things, you are the infidel and the enemy.

          What is truth? If you are a member of  ISIS, your truth is the pursuit of an Islamic state; that any other existence of authority over Muslims worldwide is heresy, that all who do not believe in the group’s interpretation of the Koran will be killed. The truth for ISIS is that if you are not part of it, you should be destroyed.

          We should fear these terrorist groups. We should realize that no matter how misinformed or misled or just plain wrong they are, they believe what they preach. No matter what we may think of their beliefs or how much we should condemn their methods, we cannot help but acknowledge their commitment. They strap bombs to their waists and wade into their assigned missions, knowing full well they will never return. They are not politicians or economists or statesmen. They are soldiers of their beliefs.

          The story of Jesus and Pilate offers no such re-enforcement. The only belief system we can see in Pilate is that of self-preservation. Three times, Pilate found no guilt in Jesus. Three times he tried to hand Jesus back to his own people. But in the end, the mob and the religious leaders had Pilate’s number. He gave in to the truth of the moment rather than acknowledge the truth of the ages.

          In his quest to keep his job, to preserve the status quo, Pilate cared only for his personal truth, and that was to get along with the Jews. His way of life depended upon keeping a peaceful trade corridor between Syria and Egypt and that corridor went through Palestine. If the Jews erupted in civil disobedience, the trade was interrupted. But Pilate was not by himself. In a later scene in Chapter 19, Pilate said to the Jews; “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered: “We have no king but Caesar.” The very religious leadership that accused Jesus of blasphemy stood in front of Pilate in broad daylight and declared: We have no king but Caesar. No wonder the Pilates of the world mutter out loud: What is truth!

          When Jesus stood in front of Pilate, he did so as living truth and he bore witness to its existence. The night before, he had knelt in the Garden of Gethsemane and prayed for his followers. He said: “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.” We know the Word as written, God’s divinely inspired word, and also as Jesus, the Living Word of God. I think Jesus meant both in that garden. That is the truth, the living and written Word of God.  

          Jesus told Pilate that everyone who is of the truth would listen to his voice. Pilate was not one of those people. The chief priests were not those people. The mob that went along with all that wrongdoing was not those people. They were not of the truth and they could not hear the truth or see it standing right in front of them.

          What is truth? I am the truth, said Jesus. “I am the way, the truth and the life. No man cometh unto the Father but by me.” Jesus does not need sharia law or jihad. He does not need arms or bombs or walls or tanks or missiles. Jesus just needs us to be of the truth. Then, we can listen to his voice.

          Have you found the truth? Contrary to what many modern day philosophers may preach, it is not your truth that you should most seek, but rather the truth.

          What is the truth? For God so loved the world…that he sent us Jesus!

Cracked Pots

Isaiah 64: 1-9, 2 Corinthians 4: 1-12

 

 

Have you ever seen a potter at work? He fashions the clay, first kneading it until it gains the right consistency. Next, he must center it. The clay must be of even thickness. If one side is too strong, it will overcome the weaker side. Then, the potter begins the patient and gentle process of opening the clay. He is shaping it in its preliminary form. It barely resembles the final product. When it is shaped the way he created it to be, it is time for the object to dry. This is another slow process during which it cures, until it is ready for glazing to achieve the luster and look the potter intended. Last, it is fired--subjected to great heat for a prolonged period of time until finally, it is ready for use. If you leave out any of those steps or if you cheat on them, then you have something inferior and it will not last. The new creation takes its place in the world and goes to work as a piece of art or a vessel, whatever the artist conceived for that piece of clay. It’s amazing to watch what can happen to a slab of clay in the hands of an expert. 

Let me welcome Kirk Argo to the platform with me. As you can see, Kirk is a potter and he is going to do his work while we talk about pottering and clay. Of course, we aren’t really talking about clay at all. We’re talking about God and we’re using Kirk and his clay as a parable. You may remember that a parable is a story told in some way familiar to the audience in order to explain something difficult in a way that can be more easily understood. Jesus spoke in parables. That way, people understood him more easily.

In the latter chapters of Isaiah, the Old Testament prophet calls out to God to come back to his exiled people.  In Isaiah 64, Isaiah is tired and he wants God to make his presence known. When God comes down, nations tremble and mountains quake. Yes, Isaiah wants God to shake things up. He wants God to take over again and rule his chosen people. Isaiah uses the metaphor of the potter and the clay in much the same way that Jesus used parables.  Isaiah says: But God, you are our Father. Please look upon us again. Don’t forget us. “We are the clay, and you are the potter. We are all the work of your hand.” Isaiah meant it for his people, but the same idea applies to individuals.

My life is like that lump of clay. God has a vision of what he wants me to be. He made me in his image, but he made me unique, one of a kind. He started out by kneading me, just like the clay that Kirk is working now. He has subjected me to different situations, different life events, getting the right mix so that I could hear him, see him in the world around me. He brought me lots of experiences, good and bad: Sunday school, boy scouts, a father’s alcoholism, mental illness, college. Military, big cities, jobs. Law school, marriage, starting a business, children. Divorce, betrayal, a new start, a good marriage, seminary, church. Just a few nouns to represent my life. Your life has its own nouns and they describe you in your own unique way.

I finally began to notice a pattern. Through every passage—and that’s what they were—passages. I thought of them at the time as accomplishments or failures, but they were passages. Anyway, through every passage, I looked around and there was God. Have you had similar experiences in life? It isn’t easy, this thing called life. But it’s so much harder when you try to go it alone. I know now that God was kneading me, centering me for the shape he designed for me.

After all that kneading, I think God had me where I could see him. Like the clay, I was centered enough to be able to be worked with. Maybe that’s when I really saw Christ for the first time. I had acknowledged his presence for a very long time, but there came a point when I was ready to be worked.

Through the messiness and up and downs of life, God was at work in me. He was opening me just like Kirk is opening his work of clay. The Holy Spirit finally had room to abide in me. I began to understand that my life was not my own. It was more than words; it was an awakening.

I’m thinking about the story of Joseph. Betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, betrayed again by Potiphar’s wife and thrown into prison. But on the other side of all that betrayal, stood the Master Potter. God was crafting Joseph into the deliverer of Egypt. Joseph’s brothers come to him expecting the worst, and Joseph says “Do not fear. You meant it for evil but God meant it for good” [Gen. 50: 19]. Can you think of times in your life when you knew something was different, when you were open to the Holy Spirit in a way that you had not been before, when all those valleys in life began to make sense in the light of God’s walk with you, his presence in your life?

As the potter works, he realizes his creation is not right. It is missing something. It is not what he envisioned. The potter slaps his hand right into the midst of his creation, and it collapses in a heap. He starts again, this time perhaps with a little more consistency in the mix.  Sometimes, even when the vision is right, even when the touch is perfect, the pot warps and he has to start all over again. Sometimes he just doesn’t like what he sees and he destroys it to start anew. Over and over, the potter works his magic until at last, the almost finished product lies before him, ready for glazing and firing.

Ever feel like you try and try, and the more you try, the worse off you are. Ever feel like you know what to do and where to go and how you are to live your life, only to be slapped right back to where you started. Maybe it’s just God working you on his master wheel, getting you to just the right consistency, just the right mix. The apostle Paul gave it a name. He called it sanctification, the process of reaching for God, the act of pressing on, of falling short and falling down, but always and continually reaching to be more Christian, more filled with the Holy Spirit; the process of letting go and letting God.

Each of us is the work of the Master Potter. Paul teaches the Corinthians, and us, that though we are no more than jars of clay ourselves to be thrown about, cracked and splintered, nevertheless we are God’s treasures. Each of us is unique, created by God for a special purpose. We are afflicted, but not crushed, perplexed but not to despair, persecuted but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed. We are the work of his hand. Paul says that it is precisely because of our fragile state that we can show that surpassing power belongs to God and not us.

As our bodies and minds are worked and re-worked, we become a new creation, but not without the work. Like the clay, we must be open to Christ, shaped by the Holy Spirit, glazed by the creative power of God and fired in the sanctifying heat of life in all its adversities and triumphs. No steps can be omitted. No shortcuts can be taken. The process takes time if the result is to be a new creation. Where once we were cracked pots of no use or value, now we become treasures of the Master. Our lives are fashioned in the hands of the potter, and in the end we are hardened for service and glazed for immortality in the light of God

When God in the Trinity decided to build a bridge to us, he sent his Son to build it. The Master Potter made a way to reconcile himself to his creation. The Potter had cast himself upon the wheel. Jesus took his place as an earthen vessel in obedience to God.  The next three decades would harden and cure him into the human vessel for whom all of us find our model. He was tested, opened, shaped and fired. Jesus was tested more severely than any Christian has or ever will be. He would live to be glazed in the shadow of a cruel cross, but even that was meant for good.

We live in a world fashioned by God Almighty. The great I AM. Nothing is hopeless where God is concerned. When I think of where I’ve been, of all I’ve lived to see, I’m thankful. I’m thankful to be a cracked pot. I want to be a metaphor for Christ. I look at how God is shaping each and every one of us and I pray for the ministry that Paul brought to the Corinthians, that we might, each in our own, God-crafted way, be “servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God” [2 Cor. 4: 1]. May God continue to work on us. If I can be a vessel whom God is opening and shaping, then I want to be a cracked pot. I hope you do too. He is the potter and we are the clay.

Spirit of the living God,
Fall afresh on me.
Spirit of the living God,
Fall afresh on me.
Break me, melt me,
Mold me, fill me,
Spirit of the living God,
Fall afresh on me.

                             Daniel Iverson, 1926

Finding God’s Blessing Wherever It Lies

Ruth 1:1-5, 4:13-17

 

 

          My wife went to the grocery store to get more meat for supper. Extra people were dropping in and we didn’t have quite enough – food, that is. We had plenty of people. Cindy called me and asked me to bring her purse. She had forgotten it. I took her purse to her and ran into some friends from my old church.  Susan and Steve. They are brother and sister. Both single, they hang out a lot with each other these days. It was odd to see a brother and sister in their forties spending so much time together. Odd but nice. They care and respect each other.

          The book of Ruth tells a similar story. Naomi has lost first her husband and later, her two grown sons. She is Jewish, though she and her husband had moved to Moab long ago. Now she is widowed and left with her two widowed daughters in law. She has no means of support and she finds herself a long way from help. She decides to go home to the land of Judah. At least there, she will have some male kin who might feel the inclination to help her out. A widow, a foreigner, over three thousand years ago, had little to nothing to look forward to without men in her life.

          Steve and Susan’s parents were my friends. They were older than me, but very vital, him a banker, her a nurse. They were strong Christians and they were strong with their connection to family. Cindy and I helped start a small group ministry in our home church and Joanne, their mother, gathered up half the people in her neighborhood for a not so small group that met in her home regularly. She bought extra copies of Rick Warren’s book The Purpose Driven Life and gave them out to the patients at the doctor’s office. She and Dan were poster children for how to be friends with their adult children.

          Naomi said her goodbyes to her daughters in law. It was the only way for her to survive. But Ruth said no to the goodbye. A young widow, she felt loyal to her mother in law and promised to go with Naomi. Her words to Naomi are among the most well known in all Scripture. “Whither thou goest, I will go and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God” [Ruth 1: 16, KJV]. Another oddity. A daughter so faithful, so loyal to her mother in law that she will follow her even to a foreign country. Odd but nice. Ruth cared about and respected her mother in law.

          Ruth did follow Naomi back to Judah. She did find a kinsman redeemer named Boaz. He was man of integrity and responsibility. The love between him and Ruth certainly plays a role in the story, but it is not at center stage. Ruth’s loyalty to her mother in law, to family, her desire to find the good inside us all, made room for God to do his work. The real story is the ability of Ruth to find meaning in challenge, to find hope in the middle of trying circumstances. The real story of Ruth is to walk in faith and find the blessing where it lies.

          I visited with Steve and Susan in the grocery store. Have you ever noticed how grocery stores are a great place to connect? Something about all that produce, I guess. Anyway, Susan was in a motorized cart. She said she hasn’t walked in a year and a half. Hip problems turned into bigger hip problems. One surgery turned into more and her body has not responded the way the doctors hoped. After nine months without being able to walk, Susan has had to face that hard truth that life has changed for her. The house was sold. She could no longer keep it up, nor afford it. A move to handicapped housing followed. Another swallowing of pride. She coughed out her litany of woes and then, she started talking about the power of prayer. In a move that surprised me much more than her, I felt a sudden need to engage in prayer with Susan, and so we did. I pulled her out of line at the checkout and for a long minute, I bent down and we hugged. I hugged her very hard and I prayed. I think she did, too. Not a word was said aloud, but there was power in that prayer. I felt myself releasing to God, feeling myself weak in the thought of his power over us all.

          We got back in line and the three of us walked to the parking lot; that is, Steve and I walked, and Susan rode. They both talked about their blessings. He spends a lot of his free time with her. He calls it hanging out. With part of the money from the sale of her house, she bought an old Mustang GT. It sounds powerful. She says playfully she can ride around and flirt in it without getting out of the car. It didn’t cost much, but it gives her some pleasure. Makes sense to me. Her life is a struggle these days, and the car gives a few laughs along the way.

          Steve could have more of a social life if he didn’t spend so much time with his sister. If I know Steve and I do, that seldom occurs to him. Like Ruth with Naomi, Steve “hangs out” with Susan.

They both come from the root of a mother who lived out Proverbs 31 as though it were her favorite sweater, and a father who grew into that grace more and more with every passing year. The parents have gone on, but the signs of that parenting remain. Susan is doing like Ruth. She may walk again, but she may not. Regardless, she is finding meaning in her challenges and hope in the middle of trying circumstances. And at least for a season, her brother Steve is her Boaz, her kinsman redeemer.

          In the story of Ruth, or is it the story of Naomi, things turned around, Ruth was married, bore a son. The male line was re-established. The son she bore Boaz became the grandfather of King David. The neighborhood said he had been born to Naomi, their way of acknowledging that God answers prayer. That’s a very good way to end this story, for in the end, it’s not a story about Ruth or Naomi, not even about the son that became the product of all that faithfulness. It’s not a story about my friends Susan and Steve, or even about the trials she faces and the obedient way she holds on to her faith. But the seed of the real story lies within such experiences. The real story is not so much about our faith in family or even in God. The real story is about his faith in us.

          The story of Ruth is a story of obedience and faith. Things turned out well for Ruth and Naomi. It’s not always that way for us in this world. Sometimes the relief we seek from our misfortunes or our physical infirmities doesn’t come here on earth. God does not promise us that. What he does promise us is peace. Jesus talks to his disciples, his posse, the night of his arrest. They don’t know what to think of his behavior. They don’t really understand at the time what he means in the fourteenth chapter of John when he says to them: “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you.” But they experience it in relationship to him through the Holy Spirit. What he does promise us is loyalty. The psalmist tells us the God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in trouble [Psalm 46]. He tells Joshua that “I will never leave you or forsake you…that he is with us wherever we go” [Joshua 1:5].

          Wherever we go. Whatever we do. Whatever we encounter. He is there. We are not alone. I thank my friend Susan for reminding me that circumstances only test us; they do not define us. I thank my friend Steve for reminding me that hanging out with family is not a burden, but a privilege. God, give us all the wisdom to discern that you are always there, that you always have faith in us; that your blessings extend far beyond our immediate needs. Help us to see it and return it to you with our loyalty, our obedience and our love, whatever the circumstance. Help us to believe that there is power in every prayer we lift up to you, every song we sing to you, every hug we give for you in Jesus’ name. And help us too, to walk in faith…and find God’s blessing wherever it lies.

Your Faith Makes You Well

Mark 10: 17-22, 46-52

 

 

          A couple years ago, I underwent cataract surgery on both eyes. I had dense cataracts lying directly between my lenses and my field of vision. The results were several. Colors became much more dull, though I didn’t really know it because it happened over a long period of time. I also could not see very well. I kept hitting curbs when I was parking or gliding out of my lane on the road. I finally began putting two and two together one day at the beach. Cindy was standing in front of me with direct sun behind her. I looked at her and saw nothing. It was as though she had disappeared. That was the first time that I truly realized that my vision was impaired.

          Soon after we returned home, I made an appointment with the eye doctor. I was diagnosed with cataracts. The doctor scheduled surgery as soon as available because my vision was so poor. When I looked into the light, it blinded me. I really didn’t have sufficient vision with which to make judgments based upon my sight.

          The tenth chapter of Mark contains a number of stories. Jesus talks about divorce. He talks about the importance of children and how their simple trust and belief can be instructive to all who would follow him. He talks for the third time about the Passion that he knows awaits him in Jerusalem. There are other stories in Chapter 10, but today, I want us to focus on two of those stories. Both are about men who met Jesus, one a rich young man who ran up to him at the beginning of the journey and the other a blind beggar named Bartimaeus who met Jesus in Jericho just as they were beginning the last leg of the journey.

          The young man runs up to Jesus. He is all excited. He kneels before the Master and he asks: Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? Many would say he already has. He has money. He has position. He has social status. He has it made. And he is a good guy. He wants to follow Jesus. He has kept all the commandments. He is a good Jewish son. Jesus looked at him and said: Well, you only need one more thing. Go sell all you have and give it to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven and you can come and follow me. 

          Only one more thing. What is the thing? Sell all you have and give it to the poor. What Jesus was saying was that this young man already had a god. It was the god of wealth and power and earthly possessions. Jesus looked at him, loved him, and said you lack only one thing. But the one thing was not surrendering his independence and that was a bridge too far. The poor boy failed. He looked at Jesus and he looked at his stuff. And the stuff won. Jesus loved him and even that was not enough. He looked right into the light and it blinded him. The rich young man had cataracts impairing the vision of his soul.

          The rich young ruler ran up to Jesus at the beginning of his journey thinking to join up, but stayed home. The bookend to this story of vision, or the lack of it, happens near the end of the journey, as Jesus is leaving Jericho with his disciples, when another man approaches Jesus. That is, he approaches as much as he is able. His name is Bartimaeus and he is sitting by the side of the road. He is blind.

          Jericho was the last stop before Jerusalem.  The Jericho to which Mark refers is probably the new Jericho built by Herod. It was off the old pilgrimage path where the old Jericho, now no longer populated, had stood. So Jesus goes off road, so to speak, to make a stop in Herodian Jericho. From Jericho, they would make the final ascent from the Jordan valley to the city of Jerusalem. It is a steep climb of some 3400 feet over a distance of about 15 miles. Pilgrims today say it takes about eight hours of steady walking to make the trek. 

          Bartimaeus is just as excited as the young man who ran up. He cries out for mercy from Jesus, whom he calls Son of David. This is a messianic greeting. In other words, he looks upon Jesus as the awaited for Messiah. The more people tried to shush him, the louder Bartimaeus got.   Jesus stopped and said to call him. They did and Bartimaeus did the same thing the rich young man had done. Mark tells us the he sprang up and came to Jesus.  

          Jesus says something to Bartimaeus that we would all like to hear. He says: “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus didn’t have to be asked twice. “Let me recover my sight”, he said. “Go your way,” said Jesus, “your faith has made you well.”

          After my surgery, the light really did come on. Colors were vivid again, to the point of looking remarkable. Centerlines and curbs were also vivid. I could drive again without scaring everyone. And when I looked into the light, I was no longer blinded. Now I can see like never before. I can only compare it to when I was a child. I saw well then too. It was sort of like that passage in Mark 10 where Jesus tells his disciples to receive the kingdom of God like a child. My vision in my eyes was clear again. But Jesus was not talking about the eyes of the head. He was talking about the eyes of the heart.

          What do you want me to do for you, asks Jesus. Really he asked the same question to both the rich young man and to Bartimaeus. The words were different but the question was the same. What do you want of me? It caught the rich man off guard. He had a mansion and a four car garage. He had a BMW. He belonged to the country club. Jesus had sandals and a robe and he went everywhere on foot. When the rich man asked how to get to heaven, he was looking for an item on a menu. Not so with Bartimaeus. When Jesus asked him, he knew. He wanted to see. He knew Jesus had the keys to his sight. He believed. He believed not only that Jesus could heal him. He believed that Jesus could HEAL him. Know what I mean? Bartimaeus did not suffer from the disease of too much birthday. He knew what was important and he kept his focus. After Jesus healed his sight, Bartimaeus followed him on his way. Jesus adds one more pilgrim to the ranks of discipleship.

          The symbolism in Luke 10 is inescapable. Two men want to find their way. Two men come running to Jesus. Two men ask for the keys to the kingdom. Only one knew what to do with those keys.

The one with vision cannot see and walks away in dejection. The one who is blind can see exactly what Jesus offers.  Two men look into the same light. One sees with his eyes, is blind to the truth and says no. The other sees with his heart, recovers his physical sight and commits himself to the road to the Cross.

          What do you want of me, asks Jesus. It’s all in how you see it. At the end of the day, these are stories of discipleship. Jesus extends his hand to us all. There are those who walk away and there are those who hold on. If you can see him through all the stuff of life, then you can be like Bartimaeus. You can spring up and come to Jesus. Your faith will make you well and you can follow him. Throw off the cataracts of this world and see Jesus loving you and calling you. Climb that spiritual road from Jericho to Jerusalem and follow him on the way, just like Bartimaeus did.  Your faith can make you well.