One of the most difficult things for us as Christians to do is to reach out to people we don't like. One of the easiest ways to escape this uncomfortable chore is to label them immediately as a sinner, and thus avoid contact with them on "righteous" grounds. We even go to scripture to back up our hesitency to associate with such seedy individuals, after all, "bad company corrupts good morals."
While that may be true, we often rush to judgment on whether the company we are trying so desparately to escape is good or bad. Truth be told, if we turned the standards we use on others around and use them to perform a little self-evaluation, then we most likely would find that we shouldn't even be associating with ourselves!!
This is the reality behind these few verses from the gospel of Mark, which are centered on a tax-collecter named Levi. The society around him insisted on lumping Levi in with sinners, even though his activity wasn't illegal or sinful. Their disdain for him was motivated by their own nationalistic ideology, or more simply put their politics. Some will say that as a tax-collecter Levi was almost certainly over-charging, but I would suggest that to assume such things is to read more into the gospel than is actually there.
The real lesson to be learned is that sometimes our reasons for not liking someone have nothing to do with religion, morality, or righteousness, and that to our horror we sometimes discover that on the contrary, the people we dislike so strongly actually turn out to be people of faith and conviction. Can you imagine the reaction of Peter, Andrew, James, and John when Jesus says to Levi: "follow me!"? I think they probably reacted in one of two ways. The first way is skepticism: "Sure Jesus, you go ahead and ask that tax-collecter to follow you. There is about as much chance of that happening as there is of the pigs we can't eat sprouting wings and flying off!" The other would be one of shock: "You want to ask who to follow you? Levi?!?! That guy constantly has his hand in our pockets, and I suspect that it always takes out more than it should!" Peter might have been especially exasperated. I can imagine what may have been going through his head: "First he heals my mother-in-law who does nothing but nag me, and now he wants me to pal around with this guy from the IRS. This discipleship thing is not how I thought it would be!"
How do you think they responded when, to both their amazement and their horror, Levi got up and fell in with the other disciples, leaving his tax-collecting booth behind? Do you think it caused them to re-evaluate their previous opinions of him? As Jesus procedes to Levi's house, and enjoys a meal with both tax-collecters and sinners, do you think the disciples were perhaps a bit uneasy? We know that the Pharisees were, because they brought the issue up. And yet, all Jesus was doing was hanging out with those who were willing to hang out with Him. I think it's a powerful illustration that anyone; and I mean anyone, even "tax-collecters and sinners", can come into the presence of Jesus. In fact, ultimately we will be judged by our willingness, and even our eagerness to do just that. We can stand aloof insisting that everything is fine, in which case Jesus can do nothing for us. OR, we can do the scary thing, the thing that takes faith, and admit that there is much in our lives that needs to change. We can't heal illness by denying that it is present, nor can we deal with our own sinful nature by pretending to be righteous.
The real question, I believe, is not "what does this mean for me?" That question is important, but I think the real elephant in the room, the question that no one wants to ask is, "what does this mean for our churches?" Barring the doors of our churches to the sinner, or more specifically to the sinner who struggles with a sin different than the one I struggle with, is like a hospital refusing to accept the injured, on the basis that mending their wound would get blood all over the floor. We would never close the doors of our hospitals out of fear of the sick, after all, where would people go to get well? Why then, do we have a tendency to slam the doors of our churches in the face of sinners? Without Jesus what hope do they, or better yet what hope we do, have of being made well?
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Mark 2:1-12: Which is easier??
Sometimes miracles arn't as impressive as they seem. On the other hand, sometimes that which doesn't appear impressive at first, upon further consideration, is revealed to be nothing short of miraculous.
Such is the case with Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Much has been said, rightfully so, of the paralytic's friends and their willingness to carry him to Jesus. Similarly, a lot of attention has been given to Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Again, it's hard to argue against the significance of such an event.
And yet, sometimes we get so caught up in the glitz and glam of physically impressive miracles, that we fail to come to grips with Jesus' true purpose for performing the miracle to begin with. It is important to note that rather than stating that the man was "healed", Jesus forgives his sins. The scribes quickly pick up on this, and even if it's silently, they begin to wonder who this man thinks he is?
Jesus' response is rooted in his identity as the Son of God. While others- prophets and apostles specifically- were capable of healing, and even brining the dead back to life, no one, and I mean no one, had ever claimed the ability to forgive sins. It is true that on occassion prophets would pronounce that forgiveness had been granted (see the story of Nathan and David in II Samuel 12:13 where Nathan pronounces forgiveness, while also being careful to credit the Lord as the one who does the forgiving), but none of them claimed the ability and authority to forgive independently of God. Just as Jesus authority to teach is inherently a part of him (see Mark 1), so is his ability and willingness to forgive.
Beyond his ability to forgive, Jesus also shows an uncanny ability to know the thoughts of others. While Jesus is yet to explicitly claim the mantle of Son of God, his actions implicitly point to who he truly is. Consider these words from the psalmist:
"Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end, and may you establish the righteous- you who test the minds and hearts, O righteous God!" - Psalm 7:9
In testing the minds and the hearts of the scribes who would challenge his ability to forgive sins, Jesus is indirectly identifying himself as the righteous God who alone is capable of such things!
More than physical healing, this is a story about forgiveness, namely who it is that has the authority to forgive. It's also a story about our willingness, and indeed our ability, to receive the forgiveness that is offered so freely. It is here that the friends of the paralyzed man teach us something about what it means to be a community. The commentator John R. Donahue states it this way:
“The text also encourages reflection on the relation between sin and “paralysis”. Sin can exercise such force that people are unable to move or change. They may, like the paralyzed man, be dependent on others on the journey to health and restoration.”
While it is God alone who forgives, we as His people are tasked with the sacred responsibility of bringing those in need of forgiveness, broken and paralyzed though they may be, to the feet of Jesus. And when the "mat" you carry them on gets heavy, call on others of faith to lend a hand and remind yourself that you are only capable of carrying them because at some point, perhaps long ago, someone had enough love and kindness to carry you. After all, it's only when we see our reflection in the person laying there, paralyzed with sin, that we can truly understand what it means to have been forgiven.
Such is the case with Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Much has been said, rightfully so, of the paralytic's friends and their willingness to carry him to Jesus. Similarly, a lot of attention has been given to Jesus' healing of the paralytic. Again, it's hard to argue against the significance of such an event.
And yet, sometimes we get so caught up in the glitz and glam of physically impressive miracles, that we fail to come to grips with Jesus' true purpose for performing the miracle to begin with. It is important to note that rather than stating that the man was "healed", Jesus forgives his sins. The scribes quickly pick up on this, and even if it's silently, they begin to wonder who this man thinks he is?
Jesus' response is rooted in his identity as the Son of God. While others- prophets and apostles specifically- were capable of healing, and even brining the dead back to life, no one, and I mean no one, had ever claimed the ability to forgive sins. It is true that on occassion prophets would pronounce that forgiveness had been granted (see the story of Nathan and David in II Samuel 12:13 where Nathan pronounces forgiveness, while also being careful to credit the Lord as the one who does the forgiving), but none of them claimed the ability and authority to forgive independently of God. Just as Jesus authority to teach is inherently a part of him (see Mark 1), so is his ability and willingness to forgive.
Beyond his ability to forgive, Jesus also shows an uncanny ability to know the thoughts of others. While Jesus is yet to explicitly claim the mantle of Son of God, his actions implicitly point to who he truly is. Consider these words from the psalmist:
"Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end, and may you establish the righteous- you who test the minds and hearts, O righteous God!" - Psalm 7:9
In testing the minds and the hearts of the scribes who would challenge his ability to forgive sins, Jesus is indirectly identifying himself as the righteous God who alone is capable of such things!
More than physical healing, this is a story about forgiveness, namely who it is that has the authority to forgive. It's also a story about our willingness, and indeed our ability, to receive the forgiveness that is offered so freely. It is here that the friends of the paralyzed man teach us something about what it means to be a community. The commentator John R. Donahue states it this way:
“The text also encourages reflection on the relation between sin and “paralysis”. Sin can exercise such force that people are unable to move or change. They may, like the paralyzed man, be dependent on others on the journey to health and restoration.”
While it is God alone who forgives, we as His people are tasked with the sacred responsibility of bringing those in need of forgiveness, broken and paralyzed though they may be, to the feet of Jesus. And when the "mat" you carry them on gets heavy, call on others of faith to lend a hand and remind yourself that you are only capable of carrying them because at some point, perhaps long ago, someone had enough love and kindness to carry you. After all, it's only when we see our reflection in the person laying there, paralyzed with sin, that we can truly understand what it means to have been forgiven.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Mark 1:29-45: Would you want Jesus to heal your mother-in-law?
We aren't even through the first chapter of Mark, and yet already Jesus is having problems escaping his reputation as a miracle-worker. It's not that it's a bad thing to be a miracle-worker, but as we have already seen, Jesus didn't come to perform the miracles. Nonetheless, in two of the three "scenes" from this passage, we see Jesus acting in the moment, healing and restoring health. It's worth asking though, is Jesus new-found popularity permanent, or more a result of what he can do for those around Him at the time? In seeing the reactions of those around him to his healing work, it might even challenge us to ask if we love Jesus for who he is, or what he can do for us?
Jesus' healing of Simon's mother-in-law, when taken in conjunction with the exorcism he performs just prior to arriving at Simon's house, tells us a number of things about Jesus' view of the relationship between the Law and humanity. Quite simply, if Jesus followed the Law as the Pharisees and scribes would have him to, the exorcism and healing of Simon's mother-in-law would never have happened. The Law doesn't allow for work on the Sabbath. Nor does it allow for the touching of one with an unclean spirit, or the touching of a woman who isn't a relation. So what does this tell us? Is Jesus some free-wheeling rebel who throws the Law out the window? On the contrary, Jesus actions serve to remind us of the intent of the Law. At the risk of spoiling what is yet to come, in Mark 2:27 we will see Jesus state explicitly the thinking that caused him to violate the Sabbath in such obvious ways, "man was not made for the Sabbath, but the Sabbath was made for man." Rather than seeing Jesus as some Law-breaking free-spirit, perhaps it would have done the scribes good to consider another option. Perhaps, Jesus was opening up a deeper, more eternal way of thinking about Sabbath. Perhaps Jesus knew that there is no rest for the demon-possessed and the ill. How tragically ironic would it be if Jesus allowed the law that was given to ensure that humanity would have rest to prevent him from giving rest and the restoration of health to those most in need of Sabbath?
After making an attempt, albeit a brief one, to flee the crowds surrounding him for miracles, Jesus once again finds himself in the midst of people, teaching in a synagogues and when necessary casting out demons. It is in the midst of this ministry of preaching and healing that Jesus is confronted by a leper, who desperately wants not only to be made well, but to be made "clean". Again, we see Jesus violating the rules of his day as he reaches out his hand to touch the man. What we dare not miss is that Jesus' touch, while not being the thing that heals him of leprosy, is the thing that heals the man's spirit. The man's request to be "made clean" reflects the way that he has been ostracized, completely cut off from his community. He wants to be healed, yes, but what he most wants is to be made part of society once again. If this man had been a leper for any length of time, then Jesus' touch would have been at once both a foreign, and yet also longed for thing. If we look closely, we see that Jesus' touch serves no other purpose. It is his words, "I will, be clean", that cause the healing to become an immediate reality. The pattern continues to emerge, Jesus refuses to elevate the law over the well-being of those around him.
Perhaps the word that is the most relevant for us is found in the response of both Simon's mother-in-law, and the leper. On one hand, we see Simon's mother-in-law respond by serving. Important to note is that she doesn't just serve Jesus, but also those with him. Without Jesus' physical presence among us, could it be that serving others is an equally valid response through which we show our gratitude for what Christ has done for us? On the other hand, we have in the leper a simple inability to stay quiet, despite Jesus injunction to say nothing. I find my ability to stay silent, even when commanded to do otherwise, an indicting characteristic of my own life. It is clear to me that I need to learn to appreciate the good news of Jesus Christ in a way that manifests itself in both service, and in an inability to remain silent about God's work in the world. The only way that can happen is if I learn to love the miracle-worker, not the miracle, if I learn to love not the cross, but the one who hung on a cross. What about you? Do you truly love the giver of all good things, or merely the gifts themselves?
Jesus' healing of Simon's mother-in-law, when taken in conjunction with the exorcism he performs just prior to arriving at Simon's house, tells us a number of things about Jesus' view of the relationship between the Law and humanity. Quite simply, if Jesus followed the Law as the Pharisees and scribes would have him to, the exorcism and healing of Simon's mother-in-law would never have happened. The Law doesn't allow for work on the Sabbath. Nor does it allow for the touching of one with an unclean spirit, or the touching of a woman who isn't a relation. So what does this tell us? Is Jesus some free-wheeling rebel who throws the Law out the window? On the contrary, Jesus actions serve to remind us of the intent of the Law. At the risk of spoiling what is yet to come, in Mark 2:27 we will see Jesus state explicitly the thinking that caused him to violate the Sabbath in such obvious ways, "man was not made for the Sabbath, but the Sabbath was made for man." Rather than seeing Jesus as some Law-breaking free-spirit, perhaps it would have done the scribes good to consider another option. Perhaps, Jesus was opening up a deeper, more eternal way of thinking about Sabbath. Perhaps Jesus knew that there is no rest for the demon-possessed and the ill. How tragically ironic would it be if Jesus allowed the law that was given to ensure that humanity would have rest to prevent him from giving rest and the restoration of health to those most in need of Sabbath?
After making an attempt, albeit a brief one, to flee the crowds surrounding him for miracles, Jesus once again finds himself in the midst of people, teaching in a synagogues and when necessary casting out demons. It is in the midst of this ministry of preaching and healing that Jesus is confronted by a leper, who desperately wants not only to be made well, but to be made "clean". Again, we see Jesus violating the rules of his day as he reaches out his hand to touch the man. What we dare not miss is that Jesus' touch, while not being the thing that heals him of leprosy, is the thing that heals the man's spirit. The man's request to be "made clean" reflects the way that he has been ostracized, completely cut off from his community. He wants to be healed, yes, but what he most wants is to be made part of society once again. If this man had been a leper for any length of time, then Jesus' touch would have been at once both a foreign, and yet also longed for thing. If we look closely, we see that Jesus' touch serves no other purpose. It is his words, "I will, be clean", that cause the healing to become an immediate reality. The pattern continues to emerge, Jesus refuses to elevate the law over the well-being of those around him.
Perhaps the word that is the most relevant for us is found in the response of both Simon's mother-in-law, and the leper. On one hand, we see Simon's mother-in-law respond by serving. Important to note is that she doesn't just serve Jesus, but also those with him. Without Jesus' physical presence among us, could it be that serving others is an equally valid response through which we show our gratitude for what Christ has done for us? On the other hand, we have in the leper a simple inability to stay quiet, despite Jesus injunction to say nothing. I find my ability to stay silent, even when commanded to do otherwise, an indicting characteristic of my own life. It is clear to me that I need to learn to appreciate the good news of Jesus Christ in a way that manifests itself in both service, and in an inability to remain silent about God's work in the world. The only way that can happen is if I learn to love the miracle-worker, not the miracle, if I learn to love not the cross, but the one who hung on a cross. What about you? Do you truly love the giver of all good things, or merely the gifts themselves?
Monday, August 22, 2011
Mark 1:21-28: What did Jesus see as his mission?
One of the things that I find quite interesting about this text from Mark is that it has really caused me to think about Jesus mission, and even to explore what Jesus thought his mission to be. It might seem fairly obvious, and to some extent it is. "He came to die for our sins", that is probably the stock answer you would receive from almost any Christian if you asked them about Jesus mission. While that is true, and there is no denying Jesus death and resurrection as the centerpiece of Jesus earthly ministry, if the extent of Jesus mission was to die a sacrificial death, why the several year ministry? Why not just come, die, rise again, and be done with the whole messy business?
I think the answer is that deep down Jesus was a teacher. Even more than that, he was THE teacher. To our detriment, we often allow Jesus' miracles to overshadow Jesus' teaching. It is important to note that even in this passage when he heals the man with the unclean spirit, Jesus does this as a response to the fact that his teaching has been interupted. As we read through the gospel of Mark, we will see a pattern emerge, where Jesus attempts to teach the people, but all they seem to be interested in is miracles. In many ways, we fall into the same trap. Jesus feeding of the five thousand, Jesus turning water into wine, those are the events that catch our eye. They are flashy, the seem to bear the greatest witness to Jesus' identity as the Son of God. And yet, if it were true that miracles offered the greatest proof that Jesus was indeed who he said he was, then why do we find miracles to so often be the source of confusion when it comes to Jesus' identity?
- When Jesus heals a man with a withered hand, it causes the Pharisees and scribes to oppose Him (Mark 3:6)
- When he casts out demons, the scribes think he is possessed (Mark 3:22)
- Jesus' healing of the sick fails to impress those from his own town (Mark 6:2-3)
- His miracles cause Herod to mistakingly believe that John the Baptist has come back from the grave (Mark 6:14-16)
- And in perhaps the most stunning example, the discipes fail to comprehend Jesus power even after he miraculously feeds 5,000, and then 4,000 people (Mark 6:52; 8:13-21)
The evidence would seem to suggest that if we are going to truly understand who Jesus is, we must look to what he preached and what he taught. The only miracle we need to confirm the authority with which he proclaimed his message is the miracle of the empty tomb.
So what should we learn concerning Jesus the teacher? Mark thinks there are a few things that we should know. First of all, Jesus has confidence in His authority, as he shows up to teach in a sacred place (the synagogue), and at a sacred time (the Sabbath). No one would really pay much attention to someone who stood behind a pulpit, preaching to an empty room on a Tuesday morning. But when the sanctuary is full on Sunday morning, standing behind the pulpit takes on a whole nother meaning. Secondly, Jesus' authority is innate, or based on His identity, rather than derived from any source. I like to think of the difference between an attorney and a Supreme Court justice. An attorney can argue what the law says, based on precedent and interpretation, but a Supreme Court justice can decide what the law says, and in the process make the law. Jesus teachings do not rest on the scholarly opinions of learned rabbis and scribes, or even on precedent, but rather on His own opinion, which by its very nature is truth with a capital "T". It's intriguing to note that in this introduction to Jesus as teacher, Mark doesn't even mention what it is Jesus taught. In this initial encounter, Mark's goal is merely to show us that Jesus teaches, and teaches as one with authority.
If Mark places so much emphasis on Jesus as teacher, perhaps it is worth taking a look at what it is Jesus' taught. After all, our ability to truly follow Jesus will be determined not by His ability to cast a demon out of someone 2,000 years ago, but on the words that he taught and preached whose truth remains as powerful today, as when they were first uttered.
I think the answer is that deep down Jesus was a teacher. Even more than that, he was THE teacher. To our detriment, we often allow Jesus' miracles to overshadow Jesus' teaching. It is important to note that even in this passage when he heals the man with the unclean spirit, Jesus does this as a response to the fact that his teaching has been interupted. As we read through the gospel of Mark, we will see a pattern emerge, where Jesus attempts to teach the people, but all they seem to be interested in is miracles. In many ways, we fall into the same trap. Jesus feeding of the five thousand, Jesus turning water into wine, those are the events that catch our eye. They are flashy, the seem to bear the greatest witness to Jesus' identity as the Son of God. And yet, if it were true that miracles offered the greatest proof that Jesus was indeed who he said he was, then why do we find miracles to so often be the source of confusion when it comes to Jesus' identity?
- When Jesus heals a man with a withered hand, it causes the Pharisees and scribes to oppose Him (Mark 3:6)
- When he casts out demons, the scribes think he is possessed (Mark 3:22)
- Jesus' healing of the sick fails to impress those from his own town (Mark 6:2-3)
- His miracles cause Herod to mistakingly believe that John the Baptist has come back from the grave (Mark 6:14-16)
- And in perhaps the most stunning example, the discipes fail to comprehend Jesus power even after he miraculously feeds 5,000, and then 4,000 people (Mark 6:52; 8:13-21)
The evidence would seem to suggest that if we are going to truly understand who Jesus is, we must look to what he preached and what he taught. The only miracle we need to confirm the authority with which he proclaimed his message is the miracle of the empty tomb.
So what should we learn concerning Jesus the teacher? Mark thinks there are a few things that we should know. First of all, Jesus has confidence in His authority, as he shows up to teach in a sacred place (the synagogue), and at a sacred time (the Sabbath). No one would really pay much attention to someone who stood behind a pulpit, preaching to an empty room on a Tuesday morning. But when the sanctuary is full on Sunday morning, standing behind the pulpit takes on a whole nother meaning. Secondly, Jesus' authority is innate, or based on His identity, rather than derived from any source. I like to think of the difference between an attorney and a Supreme Court justice. An attorney can argue what the law says, based on precedent and interpretation, but a Supreme Court justice can decide what the law says, and in the process make the law. Jesus teachings do not rest on the scholarly opinions of learned rabbis and scribes, or even on precedent, but rather on His own opinion, which by its very nature is truth with a capital "T". It's intriguing to note that in this introduction to Jesus as teacher, Mark doesn't even mention what it is Jesus taught. In this initial encounter, Mark's goal is merely to show us that Jesus teaches, and teaches as one with authority.
If Mark places so much emphasis on Jesus as teacher, perhaps it is worth taking a look at what it is Jesus' taught. After all, our ability to truly follow Jesus will be determined not by His ability to cast a demon out of someone 2,000 years ago, but on the words that he taught and preached whose truth remains as powerful today, as when they were first uttered.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Mark 1:16-20: the "cost" of discipleship
It's easy for me to read a lot of the Bible, especially the gospels, allowing myself to operate under the assumption that the historical events that we read of there were of a special nature. Surely Jesus isn't going to come walking down the road and ask me to drop everything to follow Him, so how can I relate those first followers of Jesus who left behind their nets, and sometimes more, to follow Christ?
When we begin to move beyond their immediate context, we see some challenging similarities between their situation and ours. First of all we, like them, are called by God. The call seems more explicit in these few verse of Mark's gospel, because Jesus specifically addresses a few men, issuing them an invitation. What it's easy to lose sight of is the universal nature of Jesus' invitation. We may think that at some moment in our lives we made the conscious decision to seek out God, but if we are honest with ourselves we will open our eyes to the reality that God has already sought us out. The cross stands dominating the landscape of history, a giant invitation for humankind to be reconciled to God. Paul would put it this way, "for while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly." (Romans 5:6) We may never see Jesus face-to-face on this earth, but his invitation to us to "follow me" is just as real for us today as it was for those first disciples.
A second challenging similarity is found in the nature of Jesus invitation. Jesus invitation is a call to action, but more specifically it is a call to apprenticeship. "Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men." The implication there is that they are not already fishers of men, and that there is something they need to learn from Christ before they will be fully capable of "fishing" as he does. The tragic irony is that too often we trust Jesus to be our savior, but not our teacher. Or, perhaps a more accurate way of stating it is that it doesn't even occur to us that in addition to being saved by Jesus, it is possible that we might learn something from Him. It has taken me years to come to grips with the fact that Jesus is more than someone we learn about, he is someone we learn from. To be honest, what that means for my life is something that I am constantly in the process of discovering.
A final way that our story relates to that of those first disciples is that we, like them, are going to be called to give something up in order to follow Jesus. The sacrifices we are called to make will differ, both in their nature as well as in their intensity. I find it interesting that from what we can tel, Peter and Andrew simply leave behind a net, while James and John leave behind a boat, employees, and even their father to follow Jesus. It's a safe assumption that the fishing business for James, John, and their father Zebedee was going better than it was for Peter and Andrew. Does that mean that James and John were "better" disciples of Jesus because they gave up more to follow Jesus than Peter and Andrew did? Absoltely not. What it means is that in that point and time, their sacrifice was greater. There were other times that the situation would have been reversed, especially when we consider that James, Peter, and Andrew would all suffer martyrdom, while by all accounts John died of natural causes. The point here is not to quantify the sacrifices we make, or the amount of suffering we endure, but rather to grapple with the reality that at some point in time, we ALL are going to be called upon to leave behind something, or to do without something, or to give something up. I like the way John Wesley puts it:
“This taking of His yoke upon us means we are heartily content that he appoint us our place and work, and that He alone be our reward. Christ has many services to be done; some are easy, others are difficult; some bring honour, others bring reproach; some are suitable to our natural inclinations and temporal interests, others are contrary to both. In some we may please Christ and please ourselves, in others we can not please Christ except by denying ourselves. Yet the power to do all these things is assuredly given us in Christ, who strengthens us.”
Did you catch that one line? In remarking on the many services Christ has to be done, Wesley states very plainly that "in some we may please Christ and please ourselves, in others we can not please Christ except by denying ourselves." Our faith will not cost us every minute of every day, but rest assured there will come a time at some minute of some day, that we will be made to chose between ourselves and Christ. We can borrow language from our text in Mark to ask the poignent question, are you losing sight of Jesus because of your refusal to get out of the boat? Have you become entangled in the nets that you cling so tighly to? Whatever it is that is holding us back, whether it's a boat or just a net, we must put it aside if we hope to truly follow Christ because if there is one thing that I have learned, it's that following Christ is never a stationary act.
When we begin to move beyond their immediate context, we see some challenging similarities between their situation and ours. First of all we, like them, are called by God. The call seems more explicit in these few verse of Mark's gospel, because Jesus specifically addresses a few men, issuing them an invitation. What it's easy to lose sight of is the universal nature of Jesus' invitation. We may think that at some moment in our lives we made the conscious decision to seek out God, but if we are honest with ourselves we will open our eyes to the reality that God has already sought us out. The cross stands dominating the landscape of history, a giant invitation for humankind to be reconciled to God. Paul would put it this way, "for while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly." (Romans 5:6) We may never see Jesus face-to-face on this earth, but his invitation to us to "follow me" is just as real for us today as it was for those first disciples.
A second challenging similarity is found in the nature of Jesus invitation. Jesus invitation is a call to action, but more specifically it is a call to apprenticeship. "Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men." The implication there is that they are not already fishers of men, and that there is something they need to learn from Christ before they will be fully capable of "fishing" as he does. The tragic irony is that too often we trust Jesus to be our savior, but not our teacher. Or, perhaps a more accurate way of stating it is that it doesn't even occur to us that in addition to being saved by Jesus, it is possible that we might learn something from Him. It has taken me years to come to grips with the fact that Jesus is more than someone we learn about, he is someone we learn from. To be honest, what that means for my life is something that I am constantly in the process of discovering.
A final way that our story relates to that of those first disciples is that we, like them, are going to be called to give something up in order to follow Jesus. The sacrifices we are called to make will differ, both in their nature as well as in their intensity. I find it interesting that from what we can tel, Peter and Andrew simply leave behind a net, while James and John leave behind a boat, employees, and even their father to follow Jesus. It's a safe assumption that the fishing business for James, John, and their father Zebedee was going better than it was for Peter and Andrew. Does that mean that James and John were "better" disciples of Jesus because they gave up more to follow Jesus than Peter and Andrew did? Absoltely not. What it means is that in that point and time, their sacrifice was greater. There were other times that the situation would have been reversed, especially when we consider that James, Peter, and Andrew would all suffer martyrdom, while by all accounts John died of natural causes. The point here is not to quantify the sacrifices we make, or the amount of suffering we endure, but rather to grapple with the reality that at some point in time, we ALL are going to be called upon to leave behind something, or to do without something, or to give something up. I like the way John Wesley puts it:
“This taking of His yoke upon us means we are heartily content that he appoint us our place and work, and that He alone be our reward. Christ has many services to be done; some are easy, others are difficult; some bring honour, others bring reproach; some are suitable to our natural inclinations and temporal interests, others are contrary to both. In some we may please Christ and please ourselves, in others we can not please Christ except by denying ourselves. Yet the power to do all these things is assuredly given us in Christ, who strengthens us.”
Did you catch that one line? In remarking on the many services Christ has to be done, Wesley states very plainly that "in some we may please Christ and please ourselves, in others we can not please Christ except by denying ourselves." Our faith will not cost us every minute of every day, but rest assured there will come a time at some minute of some day, that we will be made to chose between ourselves and Christ. We can borrow language from our text in Mark to ask the poignent question, are you losing sight of Jesus because of your refusal to get out of the boat? Have you become entangled in the nets that you cling so tighly to? Whatever it is that is holding us back, whether it's a boat or just a net, we must put it aside if we hope to truly follow Christ because if there is one thing that I have learned, it's that following Christ is never a stationary act.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Mark 1:1-15: where do you get your (good) news from?
One of the things that we often overlook, more than likely because of our being almost 2,000 years removed from the historical context, is that there were multiple ideas of "good news" competiting for attention and allegiance in the first century. Consider this inscription about Octavian, whom we know as Augustus, the first Roman emperor:
“Because providence has ordered our life in a divine way…and since the Emperor through his epiphany has exceeded the hopes of former good news, surpassing not only the benefactors who came before him, but also leaving no hope that anyone in the future will surpass him, and since the birthday of the god was for the world the beginning of his good news [may it be declared that]…”
Perhaps you picked up on the fact that Augustus is referred to as a god. It is shocking to us, but you have to credit the ancients for at least being honest. Perhaps the difference between us and them is not that they worship mortals as gods, but that they are at least honest when they do so. The stark truth is that in our day, just as in theirs, there are multiple ideas, multiple forms of "good news" fighting for our loyalty.
The thrust of the gospel (good news) of Mark is that while there may be many messages passing themselves off as good news, there is only one gospel that is rooted in eternity. If we look closely enough, we will see that most things trying to pass as good news betray their temporality. Consider this section of the inscription mentioned above, "surpassing not only the benefactors who came before him, but also leaving no hope that anyone in the future will surpass him". The good news of Augustus advent as emperor was firmly rooted in the past, and while that advent may have been good news to those alive to witness it at the time, it would actually be depressing news for those who would come after, for whom there was "no hope that anyone in the future would surpass him."
Contrast this with Mark's message, which begins with the words "the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ…” The good news preached by John the Baptist is rooted in the present, and even in the future, as opposed to the world's good news of things past. John's message referred to one coming who was mightier than he (v. 7), to one who would baptize in the Holy Spirit (v. 8).
More than likely the first recipients of this gospel were Roman Christians in the 60's AD. I won't go into the details of why we think that is the case, but it has a lot to do with internal evidence found in the gospel. I point this out because the commentator William L. Lane highlights what this good news would have meant to a group of Christians who as they received it, were in the midst of intense persecution. Lane points out that as they heard the gospel preached, they would have found multiple ways to identify with the story of Christ.
- Just as they were driven underground to live and worship in catacombs, Jesus was driven into the wilderness, by the Spirit no less, to experience temptation. (1:12)
- Juast as they were led into the coliseum to be devoured by wild beasts, suffering martyrdom for the name of Christ, so Jesus lived among the wild beats during his time in the wilderness. (1:13)
- Like them, he was misrepresented (3:21, f. 30)
- Just as they were often turned into the authorities by their friends, and even family, Jesus was betrayed by Judas, one of his closest friends from his inner circle. (3:19)
- Just as they were lifted up on poles, and burned as torches in the emperor Nero’s garden, Jesus was lifted up on a cross and crucified.
- Most importantly, just as a Roman centurion, a representative of the empire that was so intensely persecuting them, would confess the truth that Jesus was the Son of God, so would they experience vindication ultimately through Christ's resurrection.
The good news offered by the world, like a carton of milk, comes with an expiration date. That date may seem far off, but I can promise you that it will get here sooner than you realize. The resurrection, on the other hand, is eternal, and it ensures that the good news of Jesus Christ is always relveant, always available, and always fresh.
“Because providence has ordered our life in a divine way…and since the Emperor through his epiphany has exceeded the hopes of former good news, surpassing not only the benefactors who came before him, but also leaving no hope that anyone in the future will surpass him, and since the birthday of the god was for the world the beginning of his good news [may it be declared that]…”
Perhaps you picked up on the fact that Augustus is referred to as a god. It is shocking to us, but you have to credit the ancients for at least being honest. Perhaps the difference between us and them is not that they worship mortals as gods, but that they are at least honest when they do so. The stark truth is that in our day, just as in theirs, there are multiple ideas, multiple forms of "good news" fighting for our loyalty.
The thrust of the gospel (good news) of Mark is that while there may be many messages passing themselves off as good news, there is only one gospel that is rooted in eternity. If we look closely enough, we will see that most things trying to pass as good news betray their temporality. Consider this section of the inscription mentioned above, "surpassing not only the benefactors who came before him, but also leaving no hope that anyone in the future will surpass him". The good news of Augustus advent as emperor was firmly rooted in the past, and while that advent may have been good news to those alive to witness it at the time, it would actually be depressing news for those who would come after, for whom there was "no hope that anyone in the future would surpass him."
Contrast this with Mark's message, which begins with the words "the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ…” The good news preached by John the Baptist is rooted in the present, and even in the future, as opposed to the world's good news of things past. John's message referred to one coming who was mightier than he (v. 7), to one who would baptize in the Holy Spirit (v. 8).
More than likely the first recipients of this gospel were Roman Christians in the 60's AD. I won't go into the details of why we think that is the case, but it has a lot to do with internal evidence found in the gospel. I point this out because the commentator William L. Lane highlights what this good news would have meant to a group of Christians who as they received it, were in the midst of intense persecution. Lane points out that as they heard the gospel preached, they would have found multiple ways to identify with the story of Christ.
- Just as they were driven underground to live and worship in catacombs, Jesus was driven into the wilderness, by the Spirit no less, to experience temptation. (1:12)
- Juast as they were led into the coliseum to be devoured by wild beasts, suffering martyrdom for the name of Christ, so Jesus lived among the wild beats during his time in the wilderness. (1:13)
- Like them, he was misrepresented (3:21, f. 30)
- Just as they were often turned into the authorities by their friends, and even family, Jesus was betrayed by Judas, one of his closest friends from his inner circle. (3:19)
- Just as they were lifted up on poles, and burned as torches in the emperor Nero’s garden, Jesus was lifted up on a cross and crucified.
- Most importantly, just as a Roman centurion, a representative of the empire that was so intensely persecuting them, would confess the truth that Jesus was the Son of God, so would they experience vindication ultimately through Christ's resurrection.
The good news offered by the world, like a carton of milk, comes with an expiration date. That date may seem far off, but I can promise you that it will get here sooner than you realize. The resurrection, on the other hand, is eternal, and it ensures that the good news of Jesus Christ is always relveant, always available, and always fresh.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Matthew 13:53-58: Are you an atheist?
Are you an atheist? Of course not! Or at least, that’s the answer I would expect from many of you. As you probably know, an atheist is someone who does not believe in the existence of God. The word actually comes from the Greek- coincidentally, the same language that the New Testament was originally written in- meaning “without God” (a=without, theos=God). Atheism has grown in acceptability over time, causing more and more people to openly state the fact that they do not believe that God exists. As troublesome as this trend is, perhaps another less noticed trend is more dangerous, specifically to Christian communities. When Jesus returned to Nazareth, the people did not have faith in Him. The Greek word used to describe them is not atheist, but apistia (a=without, pistia=faith). They believed he existed; after all he was standing right in front of them. However, they could not explain his wisdom or his power, so they simply chose to reject Him, placing no faith in His claims to be the Messiah, the Son of God. I would argue that this attitude poses a far greater threat to our churches today than atheism. It is not enough to claim to believe that God exists; we must also place our trust in Him. If we say that God exists, and yet are “without faith”, we are no different than the people of Nazareth that saw Him standing in front of them, but rejected Him nonetheless. It is a difficult, and yet necessary question to ask ourselves: is the sum of our faith a mere statement that God exists, or is it evident by the way we our lives that we have put our trust in God? Are our lives ordered differently because of our conviction that God is alive and among us?
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