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.

His Story

Joshua 23: 14-16, 24: 14-18

 

 

                    In the latter chapters of the book of Joshua, the great leader of the nation of Israel stands before the people. He has lived through forty years of wandering in the desert. He has picked up the mantle of leadership from Moses and carried it remarkably well. He has brought God’s people into the Promised Land. He is old. He is tired. He knows his time is near. He says to them: “And now, I am about to go the way of all the earth.” He is speaking of the end of his life, the end of his ministry, the completion of his baptism.

          In our opening passage today, Joshua talks about covenant. He reminds the people that God has not failed in any way to deliver everything he promised. He has kept his covenant. Everything has come to pass. No one has earned anything. God has provided everything.

          The whole of history can be traced in terms of covenant. God covenanted with Adam, with Noah, with Abraham, with David. Then, the prophet Jeremiah signaled a new covenant that was to come. We understand that new covenant now as Jesus, God incarnated as man; savior, God with us; Immanuel. All of history, if one looks at it from a Christian worldview, can be seen as God’s continuing covenant with his creation. History becomes---His story. Craig Bartholomew puts it this way: “What is the real story of which my life story is part? Is there a ‘real story’ that provides a framework of meaning for all peoples in all times and places, and therefore for my own life in the world?”

          Is there a real story? In this world of individualism, we are told that the world started with a big bang or any number of other theories as to how we find ourselves here. Textbooks concentrate on the scientific explanations, even if they fall well short of the mark. The world in which we live is a world of empiricism, of calculation, of logic. There is no room for the spiritual unless it can be logically explained.

          Is there a real story? Does your life story intersect with someone else’s?  Even if you say yes, aren’t you talking about your husband or children or parents or cousins? How can your story merge with some other story from someone who lived in another time, or in another place? Is there some framework of meaning for all peoples in all times and from all places? If you believe in God, if you believe in the Holy Scriptures as God’s story, then there is only one answer to questions like that, and it is YES. Yes, there is a real story, and it involves us all.

          We have talked about covenant, about how we can trace the story of God through covenant from the beginning of history, from the beginning of His story. When we trace those covenants through the Bible, we see God on a mission. The Bible is a story—a story of the mission of God to reveal Himself to his creation and to redeem it for himself.

          You know the history of this church better than I do. It was carved out of this ground by your ancestors: Campbells and Clarks and Johnsons and Sullivans and many more. The ground under our feet marks the footprint of a church that rose from an idea to a meeting place to several buildings on several sites, but always—always, existing to worship God and to continue to tell his story. About 55 years ago, this sanctuary was built on this location and it continues to serve.

          But what or whom does it serve? Why does Rocky Creek Presbyterian Church still exist? Because it serves God. It is part of God’s mission to reveal and redeem his people. Rocky Creek is just one of hundreds of thousands of connections to that mission of God that goes back to creation itself.

          The other day I walked next door to the fellowship hall to see if I could do something useful with the folks decorating for Homecoming. I didn’t get to do much, but while I was there, I noticed a few pictures and a lot of cards on the piano. On each card was a name. Each name was that of a minister who had labored for God here at Rocky Creek. I didn’t count the names, but they numbered about fifteen or so. Fifteen men and women, each of whom have worked for this congregation over more than a century. Does your life intersect with others? All I have to do is look at that piano and I know the answer. My life intersects with Ray Howe and Ladd Brearly and each man and woman represented by name on that piano. Does your life intersect with others? Look around. You are generations deep here, and the most common denominator among you as you sit in this sanctuary is not bloodlines or geography, but mission. God’s mission has been the call that brought you here to this place, and it brought your ancestors here as well.

          Yes, your life intersects with others. I stand here today on the shoulders of all those who came before me in this place, and they did likewise when they stood here. You do as well. We all come from someone and somewhere and go toward somewhere else. It’s not about family, as least not in the sense that we normally come to think of it. Here, in this place, we are reminded of story, the story that tells us of the identity and presence of God in our lives, in our past, in our present, in our future. That is the family that intersects each of us with one another. We need no name but Christian to see the family resemblance.

          If you read on to the next chapter of Joshua, you will find Joshua’s farewell to his people. It is both a caution and a challenge.  To the end God’s man, Joshua tells his people to fear the Lord, to serve him in sincerity and faithfulness, to put away any other Gods. Then Joshua utters that famous line: “Choose this day whom you will serve…but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Not long after, Joshua died. It is a fitting tribute to this great leader but humble man that it was said that Israel served the Lord all the days of Joshua and all the days of the elders who outlived him and had known all the work that the Lord did for Israel.

          In Joshua’s time, he served the Lord. He did it the best he could and his elders followed suit. It was a good time for God’s people. When we meet for Homecomings such as this, we are reminded that we too serve the Lord. This place is not just a watering hole for family reunions, though such events can serve the Lord very well. It’s not just a gathering place for the fraternity of Presbyterians, though that too can serve the Lord. It is, I think, a place for us to be refreshed, to be reminded that God is here and that God goes and comes with us to all the places and people of our lives; that it is His story that is the tie that binds us to one another over time and place.

          For a century and a half, Rocky Creek Presbyterian has existed in this area in some form or another. It has lasted that long because it served God. It will last much longer if it continues to do that. for it is not the mission of this church that excites us. It is, rather, the mission of God. We derive our mission as a congregation from that mission of our heavenly father. If we are informed by God’s Word, if we seek to validate that which we read in Scripture, then we will continue to be committed as God’s people. We are invited, indeed commanded, as surely as were God’s people by Joshua, to participate in God’s mission. We will continue to tell His Story. We will work for the redemption of not only our own souls, but for all of God’s creation.

          That’s a story worth telling the rest of our lives.

A Greater Task

James 3: 1, 2    Titus 2: 7, 8

 

 

          There’s an old country ballad written by Ed Bruce and made famous by Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson. It’s entitled “Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys.” It’s not a bad comment on cowboys. It just acknowledges their itch to be out on the open range. But it does remind us that cowboys are made of different stuff, that being a cowboy is not for everybody.

          James, the writer of the book by the same name and the half-brother of Jesus, had the same idea about teachers, but for different reasons. Writing to the Jewish Christians outside Jerusalem, James says that being a teacher is not for everybody either. He says that not many of us should become teachers. Shades of Willie Nelson.

          Let’s stop here and look at this You Tube clip. It’s about pastors, but it could just as easily be about teachers. As you watch it, think about the teachers in your life, the public school teachers and the volunteer teachers right here in this church, that never know when to quit or what time it is.

     (youtube.com: mamas don’t let your sons grow up to be pastors)

          It’s funny, but it’s true, too. And pastors are teachers. They’re just a specialized form of teacher. Jesus was a teacher. Remember that when Jesus was directly addressed in the New Testament, two of every three times he was called Teacher.

          So James says that not many of us should become teachers, because it’s tough and---because it carries a different standard of care. James tells us that teachers will be judged with greater strictness than the rest of us. Why is that? Because teachers have special influence. Because teachers have special responsibilities. To whom much is given, much will be expected. What are those responsibilities that are so special? According to Paul in 2 Timothy (2:15), they rightly divide the word of truth. Teachers “should not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting…with gentleness.”  William Barclay puts it this way:

“It was the teacher’s awe-inspiring responsibility that he could put the stamp of his [or her] own faith and knowledge on those who were entering the Church for the first time.” Barclay was talking about teachers in the early church, but I ask you, what has changed? If anything, that responsibility has only grown over the centuries.

         The apostle Paul had plenty to say about teaching. Many of his thoughts are contained in the Pastoral Epistles; the two letters to Timothy and one to Titus, both men his protégés. In the second chapter of Titus [2: 7, 8], Paul urges them to be models of good works, and in their teaching to “show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us.” Paul gives Titus a tall order. In addition to dignity and integrity and sound speech, he must first be a model of good works. Paul is saying to Titus that which we can all appreciate. In order to be an effective teacher, in order for his or her students to hear the message, it must first arrive in the way the teacher lives life. Teaching occurs first, and maybe foremost, not by what we say, but by who we are.

          What do our Christian teachers really do? Of course, they point out scripture. Of course they teach Bible stories. Of course they pray with their students. They do all these things and more. But what they do most of all is not talking about Christ to their students; it is showing Christ to them.

          It’s my great joy to recognize all the teachers we have here, teaching every age from toddlers to seniors. They are to be commended, congratulated, applauded and supported. But this is a cautionary tale as well as a congratulation. The job is immense, the rewards are usually not visible for some time, and it is a greater task than should not be undertaken without the constant help and guidance of the Holy Spirit. To do it haphazardly is to suffer judgment from God.

          Why would anyone teach, considering the time it takes, the potential liability for failure? Why? Perhaps it is because we love. We love what has been done for us and we want to pass it on. The greatest teacher of all once went up on a mountain and sat down. His disciples followed him and Matthew tells us that he opened his mouth and taught them. That teaching is called the Beatitudes, and one of the things he said was this:

 

               You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill

               cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put

               it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to

               all in the house. In the same way, let your light so shine

               before others, so that they may see your good works

               and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

 

          May it be God’s will for this gathering that each and every one of us, no matter what our position or station, shines our light, giving the glory of God to all who see that light. In that way, we can also teach. Let that be our greater task.

Lead Them Not Into Temptation

Mark 9: 38-50

 

 

          A young couple came to town because the husband had gotten his first job in the plant. They were new Christians and tender in their faith. They started visiting churches. One Sunday, they visited a church I know. They sat near the front in a pew that was usually occupied by the Petersons. The Petersons liked to sit down front. Same pew every week. They were big givers to the church. Several things around the church had been donated by them and bore inscriptions to that effect. That morning, they had arrived a little late. As they started to enter the sanctuary, they noticed the young couple. Mrs. Peterson looked sharply at her husband. He was up to the task. They marched down the side aisle and Mr. Peterson leaned over and spoke to the couple. The couple got up and moved to another pew. That was the last that church ever saw of them. I did run into him later at a business meeting. I asked how they were doing and whether they had found a church. He said they had looked around when they first came to town, but had a bad experience in one church and decided church just wasn’t for them.

          One Christmas, a family came to church. The church had sponsored this down and out couple as a love offering during the Christmas season. They came largely to see what church was like. Their children had never been to church. They were loud and pretty unruly. The couple behind them, established members, leaned forward and asked them to get control of their children. They did. They walked out as quietly as they could and never came back. Efforts to repair the damage were unsuccessful.

          Have you seen things like that happen? It doesn’t just happen in church. It happens everywhere. We are looking at an opportunity and we call it an inconvenience. More importantly, according to the gospel of Mark, we are looking at the loss of our own souls as we cause others to turn away from God by our selfish, petty actions. There is much more at stake here than meets the eye.

          Speaking of eyes, the prophet Zechariah has something to say about the subject. Zechariah prophesied to the nation of Israel in the post-exilic period. Those who had returned were a dispirited group. The foundation of the new temple had been laid but there was still much opposition. It was high taxes, hard times and little progress. The promises of glory from past prophets seemed far away. But Zechariah came to remind God’s people to be obedient; that God would indeed restore his people to glory. Zechariah has a vision and part of that vision is a call for those still in exile to return to Jerusalem. And Zechariah 2: 8 says this: “For thus said the Lord of hosts, after his glory sent me to the nations who plundered you, for he who touches you touches the apple of his eye.” Would you poke a bear or a lion in the eye? Better to do that than to mislead one of God’s people. In Hebrew, the apple of one’s eye is the pupil, the center of the eyeball. To mislead one of God’s people is to poke God in the eye.

          In Genesis 12, God calls Abram. Abram is elected to go on an errand for God. It will involve all his obedience and all his will, for he is to leave his own county on his way to wherever it is that God is ultimately sending him. His journey will be to a land known only by God. God says to Abram, soon to be Abraham, which means father: “And I [God] will make of you a great nation and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you, I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” The people of God are to be blessed, and those who dishonor them are to be cursed.

          Fast forward a few thousand years. It is the first century and Jesus is full blown into his teaching ministry. In the gospel of Matthew, Jesus is delivering the Sermon on the Mount and he teaches his listeners how to pray. The result is what we call the Lord’s Prayer. In the eleventh chapter of Luke’s gospel, a shorthand version of the same prayer appears. This time it is in the context of a request from one of the disciples that he teach them how to pray. Because of Luke’s version, it is sometimes called the Disciples’ Prayer, for Jesus taught the disciples. In both versions, Jesus prays “Lead us not into temptation.” 

          In today’s passage, Mark takes an expanded approach. He doesn’t use the “lead us not” term from the other gospels, but he gets across the same idea with a more pointed emphasis. Not only are we asking God not to lead us into temptation; we are being warned not to lead others there. Jesus is asking for radical discipleship. The language is severe. He is concerned not with us here, but with whom we come in contact, particularly children and new Christians.

          Look how Jesus makes his point and how many times he makes it. Cause someone to sin? Better to have a millstone around your neck and thrown into the sea.  Is it your hand? Cut it off! Is it your foot? Cut it off! Does your eye cause someone to sin? Tear it out! These are really harsh words, and they come directly from Jesus. The author of love and forgiveness and salvation itself is giving us a deadly warning. Don’t mess with God’s people! If you lead them away, you are playing with fire, God’s fire! You might think of it as though you have been informed that you have a malignant cancer growing in your body. If you act now, it can be cut away and you can live. If you wait…well, it will cost you your life. Such is the gravity of causing others to stumble. Do whatever you have to do to keep from intentionally or negligently leading someone away from the truth of the gospel.

          Maybe the point of all this is that we are responsible. We are accountable. Are you a Christian? Then you are a witness to the gospel. Are you a believer? Then you are a disciple. As a witness, as a believer, you are going to come in contact with children and other new believers. They are tender. Age doesn’t matter. They are tender because they are new in the faith. If you are in their sphere of influence and you lead them away from God in what you do or say or what you don’t do or say, there will be hell to pay and not by them but by you.

          We know sin is bad. It is disobedience of God. But there is apparently something worse if we can understand the gravity of Jesus’ words. To teach another to sin is much worse. Scottish theologian William Barclay tells an old O. Henry story.  O. Henry wrote back in the early 1900s. He grew up just up the road a ways in Greensboro and gained some fame as a writer of short stories. The story goes something like this:

          There was a little girl whose mother died. Her father would come home from work and get comfortable and read the paper. The little girl would come in and ask him to play, as she was lonely. Over and over, the father said he was tired and sent her out to the street to play. She got the message and took to the streets for good. Some years, not nearly enough--passed and she died. When her soul arrived in heaven, St. Peter recommended to send her to hell because she was a bad lot. But Jesus said gently: “Let her in.” And then his eyes grew stern, the eyes of our Savior, and he said this to Peter: “But look for a man who refused to play with his little girl and sent her out to the streets—and send him to hell.”

          You see, it’s not just about being openly sinful, intentionally disobedient to God. Those things are easy to spot. Those are not the things that trip us. It’s the sand in our shoes. We’re too tired or too involved in other matters at the moment. We’re too involved with our own pursuits to see the need of someone else. Even though that need, that person may be standing right in front of us, we sometimes cannot see. But what does that person see? What does that person feel? Whether it is intentional or just thoughtless and plain selfish really does not matter to Jesus. If it creates a stumbling-block for that person, if it causes him or her to doubt who Jesus is or whether Christianity is worth it…we are diluting the salt that makes that person unique and in God’s image. And once the salt has been made sufficiently impure, its saltiness is lost, not just for now but forever.

          And Jesus said to John and his beloved disciples: “It is better for you to enter life crippled than with two hands to go to hell…”  From Genesis to the prophets to the words of Jesus himself, we are warned not to mess with the people of God. Do nothing—nothing--to impede their progress toward God! When it comes to those new and tender in the faith, beware. They are walking on holy ground. Lead them not into temptation.

In Search of Fools

2 Samuel 6: 12-14

 

 

          I used to hate being caught unprepared. I’ve gotten better about it over the years, but it still bothers me. I was taught in trial practice that if I didn’t know the answer to the question before I asked it, then don’t ask the question. Growing up, I was taught  to never be underdressed for an event. Never be overdressed either. Don’t talk with food in your mouth. Don’t talk when your elders are talking. Don’t appear to be too enthusiastic. When I was grown, it was don’t volunteer. Don’t take big chances.

          The rules spilled over into church as well. Be reserved. Be respectful. Don’t sing too loud. Do everything in moderation and control. Don’t get carried away.  Don’t be churchy and don’t go around talking about God all the time. There is a place for everything, and everything has its place.

          The message for me growing up was subtle but plain. Know your place. Always be in charge of your emotions. Never be caught “out” of your comfort zone. Never show that you are vulnerable. Be “nobody’s fool.” Keep your nose down and don’t show all your cards. Take care of yourself because nobody else will.

          In the name of being prepared, what I was really taught was to be selfish and play it safe. Chances are that many of you were raised the same way. Now we find ourselves living in an age which we helped build. It is calculating, un-committing, relative. We play it safe. We live our lives in such a way that we are not likely to be surprised or embarrassed.

         Such a lifestyle has little to do with the teachings of God. God requires much more from us than playing it safe. Look at some examples from scripture. When David has recaptured the Ark of the Covenant, he eventually brings it to Jerusalem. The people are celebrating and so is David. He is dressed in priestly, or religious, garments, and he literally dances in the street. He looked so foolish that his own wife called him a fool [1Sam 6: 12-14], but David didn’t care. 

          When God called the prophet Isaiah, a prominent man with royal connections, God told him to take off his clothes and walk around naked and barefoot, not for an afternoon, but for three years…and Isaiah did what God asked [Isaiah 20:1-3].

          When God wanted to make his point to King Zedekiah, he used the prophet Jeremiah, telling him to wear a wooden yoke around his neck to symbolize God’s desire for the people to serve the king of Babylon for a time.  Jeremiah was a laughingstock for a whole generation, but he did God’s bidding.

          Ezekiel was commanded to eat barley cake cooked over human dung [Ezek. 4: 12], Hosea to marry a prostitute [Hos. 1: 2]. Then there is Noah, the guy who built a monster ship on dry land in the middle of a drought.

          The Bible is full of examples of people called by God to make fools of themselves in order to make God’s point. As scripture tells us, the world sees itself as wise. For it to do so, it must see God’s wisdom as foolishness. So if we are to follow God, sometimes our discipleship will look downright foolish to others. This is just one of the prices of discipleship.

          Isn’t it funny how grown men will yell and scream at a sporting event? They don’t even have to be there. They can watch it on TV and get so into it they leap from their chairs. Women will get down in the floor and play with their children, making complete fools of themselves. Fathers, mothers and grandchildren make the most ridiculous sounds and faces in the world to get a child to smile for them, and think nothing of it. They are not being fools for those children; they are being fools for those children’s sake. There is a big difference.

          Is it not the same with our God? If the world does not teach us how to be loyal to God, but rather to ourselves, will we not, at some point, have to choose? Will we not have to be willing to be fools for God in the eyes of the world? We do not have to literally be fools, but the concept is important, for we do need to be prepared to be seen, and even to be treated, as fools for Christ’s sake. Sometimes that might mean dancing or dressing strange or just standing up when others sit down.

          So often, the world in which we live must be looked at upside down or inside out if we are to see God. Everything around us says to be still, be quiet, to be in control.  But if we do that, we cannot hear him calling. Sometimes holy folly, that commitment to follow even when to do so might bring ridicule upon us, is the way we answer the call to discipleship.

          The thing is, we Christians in America have fallen so deeply into the easy life that we have long ago forgotten the cost of discipleship. We are not subject to starvation or jail or exile or genocide, all of which are or have happened around the world to Christians in our generation. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great German theologian of Hitler’s time, taught that “the cross is laid in every Christian.” He also taught that there are different kinds of dying. Martyrdom can be red, by blood, or green, to denote abstinence, or white, by abandoning everything for the love of God. If we are to really follow God, then we must conduct our own “white funerals.” Real discipleship is the burial of our own independence and surrender to God’s will in our lives.

          It’s not attractive to talk about surrender, much less becoming a fool for Christ’s sake. But while we’re bemoaning the loss of our independence, we might want to remember the biggest fool of all. He was in heaven and yet came to earth. He had immortality and swapped it in for humanity. He could have come as a televangelist, but instead came as a carpenter. He could have established his kingdom on earth, but decided instead on a date with a cross. Jesus was a fool for our sake.

          The church has always maintained a tension between world-affirming and world-denying. The modern world has seemingly, for the moment, swung the pendulum toward affirming. The deserts have become playgrounds and the ghettos have Wi-Fi. In our urge to be relevant, we are “seeker-oriented’ or “user-friendly.” In our desire to remain firmly planted somewhere between the bookends of “traditional” and “contemporary,” we become “blended.” Too many terms about too little tension. Why don’t we just try to become disciples, and if that means becoming fools for God, we are in good company.

          Os Guinness says that the problem with Christians today is not that we are foolish when we choose God over current society, but that we wait too long and choose too little of that which would separate us. We would do well to be thought more foolish than we are.

          Being a fool for Christ sake is claiming the promise of pain. The internal cost is burying self. The external proof is doing God’s will. Being Christian is transformational. We can’t remain the same. At times, it means looking like a fool to those around us. It is a small price to pay. At the end of the day, we are only as obedient to Christ as we are prepared to pay that cost.

          This message may sound angry to you. My wife told me it was like a punch in the stomach. If so, that is not my intent. It is my intent to sound passionate. Discipleship--following Jesus—is not for the faint of heart.  The call to discipleship echoes God’s call to Jesus. We are called to serve, to obey, sometimes even to play the fool. Discipleship sometimes means looking like a fool to your friends in order to act like a follower of your Savior.

          It’s not easy being a disciple, but then Jesus never said it would be easy. He just said it is the way to heaven. The world is a place in which we plant our feet, but not our souls. They are for a higher and better use. We cannot package the gospel neatly and put a bow around it and park it on a pew to open every Sunday for a couple hours. It won’t be contained. God meant for it to grow and he will grow it.

          “Thy will be done” cuts both ways. Just who is “Thy?” Is it you--or is it God? The answer to that question is the difference between heaven and hell.  Be a fool for Jesus!

Fulfilling the Royal Law

James 2: 1-10

 

 

          When you stand back and look at the New Testament as a body of work, it begins to speak to you. There are the Gospels, the semi-eye and ear-witness testimonies to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. They are followed by Acts, the history of the early Church. Then comes Paul and his letters to the church plants all over the region and to some individuals, all espousing the grace of God through the gift of Jesus and the gospel he brings. Paul’s letters are joined by those of others, including Peter, John and the writer of Hebrews. Revelation ends the New Testament with a form of apocalyptic, (end times) literature.

          Then there is James. James is the misfit. James quotes less Scripture than any other New Testament writer. His book would be more at home in the writings section of the Old Testament with Proverbs. It is an essay on ethics and seldom mentions Christianity at all. Martin Luther called it an “epistle of straw” and thought it lacked the standard of the other New Testament texts.

There has always been a debate among the heavyweights in theology as to whether James’s emphasis on works is at the expense of grace.

          If James were to come to market today, it might be placed in the “how-to” section of Christian living and ethics. In five chapters, he takes up the subjects of testing and trials, hearing and doing the Word, the sin of partiality, faith without works, taming the tongue, being too worldly, boasting of the future, being rich and suffering with patience. He ends his circular letter to the Jews outside Jerusalem with a call to pray in faith. It is a pep talk, a warning and a call to action all rolled into one short letter.

          Now, James is not the Son of God. Only Jesus could claim that. But when reading James, one cannot help but notice the brotherly connection in the way he writes. James writes not with a bucket load of quotes and arguments like Paul, but rather with an authority that reminds us of his half-brother. James writes with a “been there, done that” sort of approach. He wastes no time or words and gets right to the point.

          Curiously, the one Scripture that James does quote is Leviticus 19:18, where the Lord is speaking to Moses to tell the people and says: “you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” James is in good company, Jesus himself quoted the same scripture. In Matthew 22, Jesus responds to the question of a Pharisee, a lawyer, about the Law, saying that “you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like unto it. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. In these two commandments depend all the Law and the prophets.”

          James called this the royal law. What did he mean? Was it the highest? The law of kings? The law of supreme excellence? Leviticus didn’t call it the royal law, so what does James mean? I think this is where James’ practical, down to earth style can get lost in a sea of study throughout the centuries. But what James says is not hidden. It just has to be sifted a little to see his connection to Jesus and the gospel.

          First, In James 1: 22, he says to be doers of the word, to not just be hearers of the word. Then, back up to James 1: 18. James refers to the word of truth. What word is James talking about? Is it the written Word of God or the living Word of God? Later, in chapter 2 at verse 12, James talks about being judged under the law of liberty. So James talks about the word and the law, but what word and what law? What does James mean and to what or whom is he referring?

          As Christians, we speak of God’s Word in two ways. Either it is scripture, the written Word of God, or it is Jesus, the living Word of God. They don’t contradict each other, but they are two different ways to see God. When we think of the written word, we normally are talking about the Old Testament and, in many cases, the Law given as the Ten Commandments and that scripture which accompanies them. I have long thought that James, who was speaking to the Jews of the diaspora, that is, those outside Jerusalem, was referring to the Scripture when he talked about the word in his letter. I don’t think so anymore.

          James talks about the “word” three times in Chapter 1. Verse 18 sets the tone of his meaning when he says that God brought us forth by the word of truth. He goes on to say that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures. That just doesn’t make much sense when read in light of Old Testament scripture. But when we read it in light of the gospel, it makes perfect sense. We are the firstfruits of the word of truth as revealed by Jesus, the living word of God.

          Later, when we read that we are called to be doers of the word, we can interpret this to be called to do the will of God as revealed by his living word, Jesus Christ. Again, in James 2: 12 and 13, James tells us that mercy triumphs over judgment; that we should speak and act as those who are judged under the law of liberty. James is speaking of the liberty obtained through the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ, the living word, not the liberty gotten through the meticulous observation of Old Testament law. Indeed, James reminds us in verse 10 that whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it. This is not only James’ point. It is made over and over by the apostle Paul. If we live by the law, we must be judged by the law and will die by the law. To live in the gospel is to find the law of liberty and the love of God through the grace of the gospel of Jesus.

          This brings us back to our original question. What did James mean when he talked about the second great commandment as the royal law? If we read his comment in the context of his other references to the gospel of Jesus, we must and should conclude that James saw loving our neighbor as ourselves as a law handed down from Jesus, the king of kings. No matter that it was first written in the Old Testament. The words are from God and Jesus is his son, now laying down the law of love in his gospel. It is Jesus to whom James refers. It is Jesus to whom every knee should bow, that every tongue will confess, that Jesus Christ is Lord [Phil 2: 9-11]. It is Jesus who came to save and who gave us the law of liberty and the word of truth.

          So what do we glean from this “royal law?” Simply this. We are to show no partiality. Money doesn’t matter. Power and influence don’t matter. The only family pedigree that matters is the line leading to belief in the gospel. It’s not faith trumping deeds, but deeds proving faith. Douglas Ward puts it this way: “James reminds his community that the behavior that demonstrates faith is the behavior that is obedient to God and lifts up others. Likewise, the behavior that is obedient to God (love the Lord your God…) and lifts up others (love your neighbor…) is behavior that demonstrates the content of a person’s faith.”

           Partiality is prejudice by another name. Jesus knew no prejudice. He knew only a bias toward love and a heart for forgiveness. Prejudice strikes at the very heart of the Christian faith. We should oppose it and oppose it vigorously wherever it rears its ugly head. Fulfilling the royal law is opening the doors of our church and our hearts to the poor, the stranger, the lost. Fulfilling the royal law is seeing everyone as your neighbor and seeing your neighbor as good as you.

          And that’s the gospel truth!