Luke 9:7-9
First his cousin is killed in cold blood and now the murderer is looking for him. Makes a guy want to go low key, especially for one that tends to downplay his own message anyway. But Jesus just keeps going forward with his plan.
Funny how Luke drops this news right in between Jesus sending out the Twelve and feeding the five thousand. Makes you wonder if he cut and pasted at the wrong point in his word processing document. No, it is a reminder that a) Jesus is very focused on his mission, b) there are subplots from political and religious leaders ever attempting to thwart that mission and c) these separate paths are soon to meet center stage in all of human history.
Herod, the pseudo-king of Galilee, had had John killed on a whim and now he is hearing that John is back from the dead. Rumors being rumors, there are others saying that this back-from-the-dead John is actually Elijah or another prophet come back to life. Regardless, the stories all focus on this new prophet on the scene, Jesus, whose own followers are just now fanning out all over Herod’s territory stirring up good.
But anything good or bad that is stirring up is not a good thing for a puppet king, whose main role is to keep the peace at all cost Roman-style. Moreover, this new guy, Jesus, is conjuring up bad, old memories of John the Baptist. Herod had had the last word with John, yet somehow with John even death didn’t quite feel like the final statement.
John had accused Herod of stealing his own brother’s wife, which, while true, was not the kind of preaching Herod favored. And so he’d had John thrown in prison. Then in a moment of romantic, lust-filled interplay between Herod, that brother’s wife and that wife’s daughter, John’s head had wound up being served on a silver platter to the daughter. The last thing Herod wanted was to be reminded of that messy affair. After all, John was a nuisance, but he was also very popular with the common people.
And now someone very much like John, who probably even looked like John, being cousins, is building a people movement in Herod’s own back yard. No doubt, Herod is starting to feel a little paranoid. So, Luke writes, Herod tries so see this Jesus.
And that’s it. Except for a passing reference (Luke 13:31), we don’t hear any more of Herod in Luke’s story until Jesus is arrested and put on trial. But such passing references let us know that Herod’s obsession over this thing continues to grow.
As for Jesus, he isn’t disturbed by Herod’s obsession, but if he has to die, he prefers it not to be outside of Jerusalem, which that passing reference lets us know is where prophets are supposed to die, particularly this one. So, trusting Father on this matter, Jesus keeps right on with Plan A.
It takes a lot of confidence, a lot of trust to stick to what you know you are to do when all the world is abuzz about things that are inclined to distract you from what God has called you to do. For sure, Jesus was well set on doing what he knew in his heart his Father had commissioned him to do, regardless the winds blowing around him.
It is good for us to be reminded that “talk” is just that. Whatever the “news” abroad in any day and age, the messenger of God needs to know his own business and be about that business, something Jesus had understood from at least the age of twelve, something guys like Herod don’t get.
John’s ministry had been, in part, to confront Herod. Jesus’ ministry is quite different. Others may struggle over the difference, but Jesus doesn’t and John did only after he landed in prison, an anxiety in his cousin Jesus had worked to calm (John 7:18-23).
As for Herod, the guy who is king, he is unable to find Jesus. Seems strange when you think about it. After all, what else is a king good for, except to be in control of everything. Surely he ought to be able to find a guy who heals and feeds thousands. But Jesus isn’t hiding and he isn’t fleeing. Either Herod is waffling over this obsession – and probably losing a lot of sleep – or he is not sure the rumors are true about Jesus being John and he doesn’t want to make an even greater fool of himself.
Herod can not reconcile the various pieces of his life laid bare and blown large through John’s death. Jesus, without saying a thing, only augments that turmoil in Herod. But Herod’s struggle is not a direct concern of Jesus’. Jesus has people to bless, followers to train, and a destiny to pursue in far away Jerusalem. If Herod wants to interfere with those plans, that is Herod’s concern and not his. He has to be about his Father’s business.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Take nothing for the journey
Luke 9:3-5
It was a game with me. Show up with less packed than them. When I lived in Taiwan and then Northwest China, I quickly noticed how much more the foreigners (like me) took with them on trips than did the locals. And how often the locals would comment, even if ever so subtly, as they observed us.
Traveling with government officials or a local team member, I noted how for a multi-day day trip, they’d come prepared with a small backpack-sized bag with everything, including a change of clothes, toiletries, and any extras. So I set out to out-local them in what I took. My prize? Warm, approving compliments for an unexpected accomplishment. They especially liked that they didn’t have to help load heavy suitcases into the upper storage compartments of trains!
Jesus sends out the Twelve, telling them to pack lightly. Take nothing – no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, not even an extra shirt. Even considering that common people of the day didn’t have a lot of extras and certainly didn’t carry all the modern toiletries and other accessories, this is a very limited packing list, certainly less than what esteemed teachers of the day usually traveled with.
What is going on here? First, their message is not in what they carry with them. It is simply in what they declare (what they have to say) and demonstrate (translated, not a lot of props needed for blessing people). Jesus is showing them that no matter how little a person has, he or she has all that is needed to do the job.
Second, they are going to “live off the land.” As soon as I say that, readers’ minds will go to hippies, bohemians, new agers or some such. Think what you like, the point Jesus is making is that his followers are to incarnate with the people they are going to serve. And he was sending them out to the common folk who lived very simply.
Third, they are to find housing with people who welcome them. To read it in an English translation, it sounds like they will just barge into the first house they see and stay unless kicked out. Harking back to village life in Jesus’ day, it wasn’t unusual for a stranger to show up in a hamlet and be invited to stay with one of the families, who all knew each other and everything that went on. When I was a kid, guest preachers usually stayed in our house, the parsonage (preacher’s home), as I did when I traveled as a single in my 20s.
The culturally translatable takeaway, however, lies with a much deeper issue going on here. In the following chapter, Luke includes Jesus’ training materials for a much larger group of followers who are sent out to in like manner. Wherever they go, they are to look for people of peace, who will welcome them and give them opportunity to bless those in that location. This is essentially what Jesus is saying here. Look for people who will invite you to remain among them. And if you don’t find such a person, keep moving on until you do.
The phrase “shaking the dust off your feet” in response to those who don’t welcome you can be a put off to our modern sensibilities, unless we have a bit more cultural understanding of what that meant in Jesus’ day. For the Jews, the phrase brought to mind what they did when they left a ceremonially unclean gentile city. The existing practice was more for their own benefit as they undefiled themselves. In Jesus’ instructions, the symbolism was notice for those who had rejected their message. It had cultural relevance.
But before we start shaking our feet at nonbelievers, it is important to note that the action was toward people who already worshiped the same God. Rank heathen were not expected to accept the good news so readily and when they did, their faith was considered remarkable (Luke 7:9). The quarrel, if you can call it that, was with supposedly likeminded people who were not open to hearing good news from their own God. Most of the disputation on the part of believers in the New Testament was with theologically near people, not with those who had limited or no understanding of their God and His scriptures.
At this point, the disciples were going only to the house of Israel, “proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:19). Soon they would also be going to those outside. Even then, the practice of looking for a man or woman of peace continued, as the followers of Jesus sought out those open to receiving someone coming with a word of peace and blessing.
The key principle in these verses is that the disciples were to connect with, relate to, live among the people to whom they were sent. It is a principle that lasted well beyond the New Testament era among the followers of Jesus and is part of the reason why those followers increased so rapidly in those next few decades.
For more on my take on how this concept of “person of peace” can be applied in our day and age, see Night Shift: Crossing the Cultural Line for the Kingdom (Fanno Creek Press, 2011), pages 300-303.
It was a game with me. Show up with less packed than them. When I lived in Taiwan and then Northwest China, I quickly noticed how much more the foreigners (like me) took with them on trips than did the locals. And how often the locals would comment, even if ever so subtly, as they observed us.
Traveling with government officials or a local team member, I noted how for a multi-day day trip, they’d come prepared with a small backpack-sized bag with everything, including a change of clothes, toiletries, and any extras. So I set out to out-local them in what I took. My prize? Warm, approving compliments for an unexpected accomplishment. They especially liked that they didn’t have to help load heavy suitcases into the upper storage compartments of trains!
Jesus sends out the Twelve, telling them to pack lightly. Take nothing – no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, not even an extra shirt. Even considering that common people of the day didn’t have a lot of extras and certainly didn’t carry all the modern toiletries and other accessories, this is a very limited packing list, certainly less than what esteemed teachers of the day usually traveled with.
What is going on here? First, their message is not in what they carry with them. It is simply in what they declare (what they have to say) and demonstrate (translated, not a lot of props needed for blessing people). Jesus is showing them that no matter how little a person has, he or she has all that is needed to do the job.
Second, they are going to “live off the land.” As soon as I say that, readers’ minds will go to hippies, bohemians, new agers or some such. Think what you like, the point Jesus is making is that his followers are to incarnate with the people they are going to serve. And he was sending them out to the common folk who lived very simply.
Third, they are to find housing with people who welcome them. To read it in an English translation, it sounds like they will just barge into the first house they see and stay unless kicked out. Harking back to village life in Jesus’ day, it wasn’t unusual for a stranger to show up in a hamlet and be invited to stay with one of the families, who all knew each other and everything that went on. When I was a kid, guest preachers usually stayed in our house, the parsonage (preacher’s home), as I did when I traveled as a single in my 20s.
The culturally translatable takeaway, however, lies with a much deeper issue going on here. In the following chapter, Luke includes Jesus’ training materials for a much larger group of followers who are sent out to in like manner. Wherever they go, they are to look for people of peace, who will welcome them and give them opportunity to bless those in that location. This is essentially what Jesus is saying here. Look for people who will invite you to remain among them. And if you don’t find such a person, keep moving on until you do.
The phrase “shaking the dust off your feet” in response to those who don’t welcome you can be a put off to our modern sensibilities, unless we have a bit more cultural understanding of what that meant in Jesus’ day. For the Jews, the phrase brought to mind what they did when they left a ceremonially unclean gentile city. The existing practice was more for their own benefit as they undefiled themselves. In Jesus’ instructions, the symbolism was notice for those who had rejected their message. It had cultural relevance.
But before we start shaking our feet at nonbelievers, it is important to note that the action was toward people who already worshiped the same God. Rank heathen were not expected to accept the good news so readily and when they did, their faith was considered remarkable (Luke 7:9). The quarrel, if you can call it that, was with supposedly likeminded people who were not open to hearing good news from their own God. Most of the disputation on the part of believers in the New Testament was with theologically near people, not with those who had limited or no understanding of their God and His scriptures.
At this point, the disciples were going only to the house of Israel, “proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:19). Soon they would also be going to those outside. Even then, the practice of looking for a man or woman of peace continued, as the followers of Jesus sought out those open to receiving someone coming with a word of peace and blessing.
The key principle in these verses is that the disciples were to connect with, relate to, live among the people to whom they were sent. It is a principle that lasted well beyond the New Testament era among the followers of Jesus and is part of the reason why those followers increased so rapidly in those next few decades.
For more on my take on how this concept of “person of peace” can be applied in our day and age, see Night Shift: Crossing the Cultural Line for the Kingdom (Fanno Creek Press, 2011), pages 300-303.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Phase II
Luke 9:1-2, 6
It’s been all his action so far. They’ve just been along for the ride. Hanging out, listening, helping, dogging his every step. In the process, they’ve become “the Twelve.”
They were the ones Jesus had chosen from among the others and designated as apostles or “sent ones.” They were commissioned from the time he called them together as a group. Until this point, however, they hadn’t said or done anything on their own, at least nothing Luke recorded. But they had seen and heard enough. Now it was their time to go and do.
Amazing when you think about it. They’d only been with Jesus a little while, a few months perhaps. Not one of them was a trained rabbi or teacher of the religious law. Some were still fairly suspect even – you don’t quickly shake the reputation of a cheating tax collector or a political radical.
Nevertheless, what Jesus does now is really radical. He gives this newly minted crew unbelievable orders and sends them out alone – at least without him.
I doubt they have that much of a grasp on the good news themselves. In fact, I am sure they don’t. Read on and you’ll see that they have quite a few lessons left to learn. But Jesus doesn’t wait until their training is finished to send them out. He simply wants them to go and make use of what he has already shared with them.
And he grants them power and authority to push back the curse of night, to drive out all forces of darkness – note it says all demons, not just certain beginner-level powers of darkness – and to cure diseases. And as they do so, they are to go preaching the kingdom of God.
Okay, sounds pretty impressive. What do they know of driving out demons or healing sick people? Only what they have seen Jesus doing.
What do they know of this kingdom of God? They are not experts in the law, though they’ve lived in a culture saturated with the teachings of the law and the prophets, even if they did miss one or two of the Sabbath gatherings. However, what they did learn in years gone by Jesus has taken and shaken up a bit. Jesus certainly didn’t use the teaching notes of their old rabbi!
They have heard Jesus teaching a lot – to multitudes and to the larger band of his followers, and to them specifically in smaller settings. He has much more to explain to them, but they’ve heard quite a bit already.
They’ve hung on his every word and even if they don’t yet understand everything, they now start to share what they have heard. It is fascinating how much I learn by telling or teaching others. As I begin to share what I’ve heard, the ideas start to shine clearer, make more sense, somehow come to life in my own thought and communication processes.
So it is with the Twelve. As they go out from village to village, they start to repeat what they have learned from Jesus. Someone in the crowd asks a question or challenges one of their statements and they think it over, chew on it a bit, maybe come up with a different way of saying the same thing. Down the road on the way to the next town some fresh insight comes to mind. Over and over they refine their thoughts and presentations.
I wonder if they were afraid or confused. Luke doesn’t say. They certainly were at other times, even when Jesus was with them. This much we know: they went without Jesus from village to village, and everywhere they went, they preached the gospel and they healed people.
Bottom line, they went out demonstrating and declaring the good news. Just they had seen and heard Jesus do.
I ponder that and think.
I don’t have to have it all down perfectly. I just need to go out, demonstrate God’s good news, and explain it – pure and simple.
That is, if I have the same calling as the Twelve had. Do I? Do you?
It’s been all his action so far. They’ve just been along for the ride. Hanging out, listening, helping, dogging his every step. In the process, they’ve become “the Twelve.”
They were the ones Jesus had chosen from among the others and designated as apostles or “sent ones.” They were commissioned from the time he called them together as a group. Until this point, however, they hadn’t said or done anything on their own, at least nothing Luke recorded. But they had seen and heard enough. Now it was their time to go and do.
Amazing when you think about it. They’d only been with Jesus a little while, a few months perhaps. Not one of them was a trained rabbi or teacher of the religious law. Some were still fairly suspect even – you don’t quickly shake the reputation of a cheating tax collector or a political radical.
Nevertheless, what Jesus does now is really radical. He gives this newly minted crew unbelievable orders and sends them out alone – at least without him.
I doubt they have that much of a grasp on the good news themselves. In fact, I am sure they don’t. Read on and you’ll see that they have quite a few lessons left to learn. But Jesus doesn’t wait until their training is finished to send them out. He simply wants them to go and make use of what he has already shared with them.
And he grants them power and authority to push back the curse of night, to drive out all forces of darkness – note it says all demons, not just certain beginner-level powers of darkness – and to cure diseases. And as they do so, they are to go preaching the kingdom of God.
Okay, sounds pretty impressive. What do they know of driving out demons or healing sick people? Only what they have seen Jesus doing.
What do they know of this kingdom of God? They are not experts in the law, though they’ve lived in a culture saturated with the teachings of the law and the prophets, even if they did miss one or two of the Sabbath gatherings. However, what they did learn in years gone by Jesus has taken and shaken up a bit. Jesus certainly didn’t use the teaching notes of their old rabbi!
They have heard Jesus teaching a lot – to multitudes and to the larger band of his followers, and to them specifically in smaller settings. He has much more to explain to them, but they’ve heard quite a bit already.
They’ve hung on his every word and even if they don’t yet understand everything, they now start to share what they have heard. It is fascinating how much I learn by telling or teaching others. As I begin to share what I’ve heard, the ideas start to shine clearer, make more sense, somehow come to life in my own thought and communication processes.
So it is with the Twelve. As they go out from village to village, they start to repeat what they have learned from Jesus. Someone in the crowd asks a question or challenges one of their statements and they think it over, chew on it a bit, maybe come up with a different way of saying the same thing. Down the road on the way to the next town some fresh insight comes to mind. Over and over they refine their thoughts and presentations.
I wonder if they were afraid or confused. Luke doesn’t say. They certainly were at other times, even when Jesus was with them. This much we know: they went without Jesus from village to village, and everywhere they went, they preached the gospel and they healed people.
Bottom line, they went out demonstrating and declaring the good news. Just they had seen and heard Jesus do.
I ponder that and think.
I don’t have to have it all down perfectly. I just need to go out, demonstrate God’s good news, and explain it – pure and simple.
That is, if I have the same calling as the Twelve had. Do I? Do you?
Monday, July 5, 2010
A special note to my readers...
A new chapter has begun in my life. Click the following link to read about it: http://hnkconnect.com
This blog will return in August.
This blog will return in August.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Don’t tell it on the mountain
Luke 8:56
“Go Tell it on the Mountain”, an African-American spiritual, is often used as a Christmas carol and was adapted as an anthem for the American Civil Rights Movement. The message of the hymn in whatever form is that we are to proclaim God’s Good News from the mountaintops and rooftops and everywhere that Jesus Christ has come into our world to set people free.
How strange then to see, in contrast, how Jesus shushed down such proclamation, especially concerning his miracles, while he was still on earth. Here he is in this passage, having just raised a dead girl to life, and Jesus is telling, no, ordering the parents not to tell anyone what has happened. Keep in quiet. Don’t tell a soul.
Much has been written about Jesus’ MO (modus operandi) when it comes to PR (public relations) work, or shall we say lack thereof. He wants to bless the poor, he wants to preach good news, he wants to heal the sick and cast out demons and free people from whatever oppresses them. But he doesn’t want the word of all that to get out. Which of course it does anyway.
In short, much of this shushing is because as word gets out about all his miracle work, the crowds swell and the merely curious and awkwardly gawking overload the circuits. Jesus isn’t about building critical mass because he knows that fads can go as easily as they come and these people are very attuned to faddishisms of miracle workers and healers and gurus. What Jesus is looking for is a handful of faithful, available and teachable people who will hang in there clear through the cross even. In fact, this handful is his priority and why he spends three years in ministry instead of just going straight from baptism to burial. It is a priority that comes into sharp focus in the very next verse (9:1).
Jesus is portrayed by the gospel writers as frequently shutting down the PR machine. What is so special this time? His concern in this case is less about the effectiveness of his ministry than the object of his ministry – the little girl who has been healed, raised from the dead. Thus he shoos everyone out of the room save the parents and his own three disciples. Thus he commands the parents not to tell anyone what has happened. Not a soul. Nada.
What an intriguing contrast between these instructions and how he treats the woman with the issue of blood a few verses earlier. That woman, plagued by something we would consider a very private matter, is outed by Jesus in front of a mass of people. It is her faith that has made her physically whole, but that is not the end of the healing she requires. Her sickness has also made her a pariah in polite (and especially impolite) company. She, a woman with a nonstop blood flow, is a social outcast who can’t even get close to Jesus unless she does so without being seen. Now Jesus brings her into the limelight in order to shatter that social cage and force people to face the woman they have imprisoned with their silence and space. Only as she is returned to community is her healing complete.
Such is not the concern Jesus has for the little girl. She will be mobbed, feted, and gawked at, like a pilgrimage destination if Jesus pushes against the PR machinery, much more so if he does not. His stern warning to keep things quiet is to give the child (and her parents) time to recover. He has healed her body. She is not merely revived, she is physically healthy – free of whatever caused her to die in the first place. But getting sick, dying and being resurrected surely has traumatic effect on her and on her parents. Not that I know this first hand. I can only surmise that being resurrected is not something you recover from in a nanosecond. Any extreme, out-of-the ordinary experience must be followed by process time.
She is, after all, a child who in this season of recovery needs her parents’ devoted love and comfort, not their distracted attention. We often forget that even the best things in our lives have impact on us requiring time to restore a sense of balance. Physical healing is not merely physiological. Such is the modern scientific understanding that is proving what faith healing has long understood – that healing is wholistic.
Even without all that, the last thing the girl and her parents need in their lives is a circus. Notoriety will come soon enough. What they must have now is security and stability.
Of the many things I learn from looking at these two intertwined miracles, Jesus is highly creative in his approach to human suffering. Apparently identical needs require very different approaches. The Creator understands that creature concerns are never identical because people are not identical. Jesus refuses to treat the sick and needy as category – always only as unique persons.
“Go Tell it on the Mountain”, an African-American spiritual, is often used as a Christmas carol and was adapted as an anthem for the American Civil Rights Movement. The message of the hymn in whatever form is that we are to proclaim God’s Good News from the mountaintops and rooftops and everywhere that Jesus Christ has come into our world to set people free.
How strange then to see, in contrast, how Jesus shushed down such proclamation, especially concerning his miracles, while he was still on earth. Here he is in this passage, having just raised a dead girl to life, and Jesus is telling, no, ordering the parents not to tell anyone what has happened. Keep in quiet. Don’t tell a soul.
Much has been written about Jesus’ MO (modus operandi) when it comes to PR (public relations) work, or shall we say lack thereof. He wants to bless the poor, he wants to preach good news, he wants to heal the sick and cast out demons and free people from whatever oppresses them. But he doesn’t want the word of all that to get out. Which of course it does anyway.
In short, much of this shushing is because as word gets out about all his miracle work, the crowds swell and the merely curious and awkwardly gawking overload the circuits. Jesus isn’t about building critical mass because he knows that fads can go as easily as they come and these people are very attuned to faddishisms of miracle workers and healers and gurus. What Jesus is looking for is a handful of faithful, available and teachable people who will hang in there clear through the cross even. In fact, this handful is his priority and why he spends three years in ministry instead of just going straight from baptism to burial. It is a priority that comes into sharp focus in the very next verse (9:1).
Jesus is portrayed by the gospel writers as frequently shutting down the PR machine. What is so special this time? His concern in this case is less about the effectiveness of his ministry than the object of his ministry – the little girl who has been healed, raised from the dead. Thus he shoos everyone out of the room save the parents and his own three disciples. Thus he commands the parents not to tell anyone what has happened. Not a soul. Nada.
What an intriguing contrast between these instructions and how he treats the woman with the issue of blood a few verses earlier. That woman, plagued by something we would consider a very private matter, is outed by Jesus in front of a mass of people. It is her faith that has made her physically whole, but that is not the end of the healing she requires. Her sickness has also made her a pariah in polite (and especially impolite) company. She, a woman with a nonstop blood flow, is a social outcast who can’t even get close to Jesus unless she does so without being seen. Now Jesus brings her into the limelight in order to shatter that social cage and force people to face the woman they have imprisoned with their silence and space. Only as she is returned to community is her healing complete.
Such is not the concern Jesus has for the little girl. She will be mobbed, feted, and gawked at, like a pilgrimage destination if Jesus pushes against the PR machinery, much more so if he does not. His stern warning to keep things quiet is to give the child (and her parents) time to recover. He has healed her body. She is not merely revived, she is physically healthy – free of whatever caused her to die in the first place. But getting sick, dying and being resurrected surely has traumatic effect on her and on her parents. Not that I know this first hand. I can only surmise that being resurrected is not something you recover from in a nanosecond. Any extreme, out-of-the ordinary experience must be followed by process time.
She is, after all, a child who in this season of recovery needs her parents’ devoted love and comfort, not their distracted attention. We often forget that even the best things in our lives have impact on us requiring time to restore a sense of balance. Physical healing is not merely physiological. Such is the modern scientific understanding that is proving what faith healing has long understood – that healing is wholistic.
Even without all that, the last thing the girl and her parents need in their lives is a circus. Notoriety will come soon enough. What they must have now is security and stability.
Of the many things I learn from looking at these two intertwined miracles, Jesus is highly creative in his approach to human suffering. Apparently identical needs require very different approaches. The Creator understands that creature concerns are never identical because people are not identical. Jesus refuses to treat the sick and needy as category – always only as unique persons.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Processing a miracle
Luke 8:54-55
I remember the weekend well, some 25 years ago. Alan Wade and I had traveled south through the Ozarks to a church camp in Arkansas. It was a statewide young adult singles retreat and Cecil Culbreth had invited me to speak. But, to our surprise, only a handful of people showed up. I remember a dozen or so, though it might have been 20. It didn’t matter. I was there for those who had come.
I don’t remember my topic, but I do remember opening up one meeting to those with physical needs. I instructed those present that as someone expressed a specific need, one of the others, not me, would lay a hand on the person and pray, simply and straightforwardly, and we would wait and see what God would do in each situation – which is all that faith requires. So after each person was prayed for, we talked about what had happened, particularly when it was the kind of need whose healing could be readily ascertained. It was an amazing night, none like I have ever experienced before or since. Some very serious sicknesses or injuries were healed, but the most astonishing thing was that just about everyone present experienced some specific physical healing. Even Cecil and I were quite surprised. It was as if only those who were to have a need met had come.
I took as the model for my approach that weekend what I imagined Jesus having done in similar settings 2,000 years before, notwithstanding all the haze of distance obscuring the picture of Jesus in earthly action. When I look at a passage such as this one we are dealing with today, what I see is Jesus going about rather simply and straightforwardly, often using creative approaches, but generally avoiding the dramatics that we usually picture with healings and miracles.
Jesus has just chased everyone out of the room except the dead girl’s parents and his own three buddies, Peter, James and John. He’s not assessing the level or quality of faith of the parents or his three friends and certainly not testing the faith of the girl who is quite dead. He has come because the father pleaded with him to come and heal a very sick daughter. When on the way the news that the girl has died reaches Jesus and the father, it is Jesus, not the father, who decides to come on anyway. I wonder if the father had any faith by that point that Jesus could do anything, grief or shock having taken over.
Jesus didn’t heal everyone who died, not even those who were most spiritual or most pitiable. But in this case, Jesus decided to intervene in the natural processes of life. Somehow Jesus knew that he was to bring this particular girl back to life and not another who had died down the street. I know that raises all kinds of flags for some readers – and I fully understand the struggle. Even so, the record shows that for whatever reason Jesus chose to do a miracle for this family.
When the room is cleared of all but the parents and Jesus’ three disciples, what does Jesus do from what we see in the gospels? He brings her back to life. Now move beyond the incredibility of that statement and see how the gospels describe Jesus doing it. As I said, simply and straightforward.
First, he takes her by the hand. Second, he says to her, “Child, get up,” like he was her father calling her in the morning. Luke records that her spirit returned, which would mean that she revived, returned to life.
One time I was standing by a friend when her heart missed a beat. One second she was talking rather animatedly, the next she had slumped to the floor at my feet as if dead. She did not die and may still be alive today for all I know. But the experience reminded me what great distance there is between life and death. So when the girl’s spirit returns, it is obvious she is alive and fully recovered.
At once, she stands up. Mark writes that she also walks around. This is no dead body sitting up in a morgue like all those stories we hear. This is a girl (Mark says age 12) who has become vibrantly twelvish all of a sudden. To the parents who are understandably in shock, he instructs them to get her something to eat. This girl is hungry.
I remember the weekend well, some 25 years ago. Alan Wade and I had traveled south through the Ozarks to a church camp in Arkansas. It was a statewide young adult singles retreat and Cecil Culbreth had invited me to speak. But, to our surprise, only a handful of people showed up. I remember a dozen or so, though it might have been 20. It didn’t matter. I was there for those who had come.
I don’t remember my topic, but I do remember opening up one meeting to those with physical needs. I instructed those present that as someone expressed a specific need, one of the others, not me, would lay a hand on the person and pray, simply and straightforwardly, and we would wait and see what God would do in each situation – which is all that faith requires. So after each person was prayed for, we talked about what had happened, particularly when it was the kind of need whose healing could be readily ascertained. It was an amazing night, none like I have ever experienced before or since. Some very serious sicknesses or injuries were healed, but the most astonishing thing was that just about everyone present experienced some specific physical healing. Even Cecil and I were quite surprised. It was as if only those who were to have a need met had come.
I took as the model for my approach that weekend what I imagined Jesus having done in similar settings 2,000 years before, notwithstanding all the haze of distance obscuring the picture of Jesus in earthly action. When I look at a passage such as this one we are dealing with today, what I see is Jesus going about rather simply and straightforwardly, often using creative approaches, but generally avoiding the dramatics that we usually picture with healings and miracles.
Jesus has just chased everyone out of the room except the dead girl’s parents and his own three buddies, Peter, James and John. He’s not assessing the level or quality of faith of the parents or his three friends and certainly not testing the faith of the girl who is quite dead. He has come because the father pleaded with him to come and heal a very sick daughter. When on the way the news that the girl has died reaches Jesus and the father, it is Jesus, not the father, who decides to come on anyway. I wonder if the father had any faith by that point that Jesus could do anything, grief or shock having taken over.
Jesus didn’t heal everyone who died, not even those who were most spiritual or most pitiable. But in this case, Jesus decided to intervene in the natural processes of life. Somehow Jesus knew that he was to bring this particular girl back to life and not another who had died down the street. I know that raises all kinds of flags for some readers – and I fully understand the struggle. Even so, the record shows that for whatever reason Jesus chose to do a miracle for this family.
When the room is cleared of all but the parents and Jesus’ three disciples, what does Jesus do from what we see in the gospels? He brings her back to life. Now move beyond the incredibility of that statement and see how the gospels describe Jesus doing it. As I said, simply and straightforward.
First, he takes her by the hand. Second, he says to her, “Child, get up,” like he was her father calling her in the morning. Luke records that her spirit returned, which would mean that she revived, returned to life.
One time I was standing by a friend when her heart missed a beat. One second she was talking rather animatedly, the next she had slumped to the floor at my feet as if dead. She did not die and may still be alive today for all I know. But the experience reminded me what great distance there is between life and death. So when the girl’s spirit returns, it is obvious she is alive and fully recovered.
At once, she stands up. Mark writes that she also walks around. This is no dead body sitting up in a morgue like all those stories we hear. This is a girl (Mark says age 12) who has become vibrantly twelvish all of a sudden. To the parents who are understandably in shock, he instructs them to get her something to eat. This girl is hungry.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Wake and the Dead
Luke 8:51-53
As in many cultural settings today, mourners were a common sight in Jesus’ time. The funeral would be quickly dispatched due to hygienic reasons, so the whole process would happen very quickly, as did death itself. This was an age of the most rudimentary of medical resources. A seemingly healthy person in the morning could become sick, die and be buried before sundown, and mortality rates, especially for infants and children, were high.
These paid mourners, probably called by a responsible family member to be on standby as soon as someone was sick, served a functional purpose in society. They aided the essential process of grieving, giving vent to emotions that needed to be expressed by members of the family. At first I think I cannot imagine going through life as a professional mourner, expressing grief at funeral after funeral. Yet such is the role played by ministers, counselors, medical care givers and funeral personnel in our society today. They help those grieving process one of life’s most difficult experiences – the passing of a loved one.
Jesus doesn’t deplore their role, these professional mourners. He just doesn’t want them around as they will interfere with what he is about to do. He also doesn’t want a circus. Miracles are not always to be performed front and center. Word will get around, no doubt about it. As he often does, Jesus puts the break on the PR machinery of the day. No need to fan the flames of curiosity. Faith and morbid curiosity are not the same.
So what Jesus does instead is shut out the mourners – and everyone else. When he arrives at and enters the house, he takes only the parents and his three trusted friends, Peter, James and John. This is a miracle that does not need to be seen to be believed. Rather, it is a miracle to be witnessed only by a select few – the parents who have asked for Jesus’ help and Jesus’ inner circle. The former are there for the daughter when she is brought to life and the latter are there because Jesus, even at his most supernatural, almost never works alone. The father, in particular, is invited, because Jesus has come in response to his specific request.
As Jesus enters the inner part of the house where the daughter’s body lies, he has a word for the professional mourners and for all family and friends who have gathered. “Stop wailing.” I can read this in two ways. One, it is a sharp rebuke. Two, it is a firm yet caring directive. I am inclined to the former by default, though there is no reason to do so, other than that is the way I might have handled it – out of irritation or consternation. But, again, these people are doing nothing wrong or out of the ordinary. This is how you process the passing of life – and there is no reason beforehand to suspect that this case will end differently than any other. I think Jesus was using the second approach.
Jesus adds by way of explanation, “She is not dead but asleep.” He has not even seen the child, they are thinking, and is jumping to silly conclusions. They know she is dead. In fact, there is no reason to question that fact. But they misunderstand Jesus, who is not denying the state of her body. The gospel writer doesn’t seem to question it either. Jesus is cryptically explaining to the gathered crowd that the reason they are to stop mourning is because death is not the final state of this situation.
Their response is to laugh. Laughter can have many meanings. The short of it is that it is ludicrous to think that the girl is anything but dead and going to stay that way.
While Luke writes very succinctly at this point, the inference, which is confirmed by Matthew and Mark, is that as Jesus enters the room, he sends out all but those he has specifically invited. Assuming there is a door on the room’s doorway – and we cannot assume as much – someone closes this door. Or at least, everyone is chased away from looking in. The setting has no place for distractions.
This is not about proving Jesus’ ability to raise the dead. It is about answering a father’s cry for help. I like that about Jesus – the way he deals firmly but compassionately with distractions, the way he focuses on the need at hand. The woman who earlier was chronically sick was not a distraction; the people now gathered to grieve are. And so, Jesus shuts the door on grieving momentarily so that those present can bear witness to what is about to happen. He doesn’t need their fullest attention to make the miracle happen. He invites their utmost attention so that they can experience the miracle to its fullest.
As in many cultural settings today, mourners were a common sight in Jesus’ time. The funeral would be quickly dispatched due to hygienic reasons, so the whole process would happen very quickly, as did death itself. This was an age of the most rudimentary of medical resources. A seemingly healthy person in the morning could become sick, die and be buried before sundown, and mortality rates, especially for infants and children, were high.
These paid mourners, probably called by a responsible family member to be on standby as soon as someone was sick, served a functional purpose in society. They aided the essential process of grieving, giving vent to emotions that needed to be expressed by members of the family. At first I think I cannot imagine going through life as a professional mourner, expressing grief at funeral after funeral. Yet such is the role played by ministers, counselors, medical care givers and funeral personnel in our society today. They help those grieving process one of life’s most difficult experiences – the passing of a loved one.
Jesus doesn’t deplore their role, these professional mourners. He just doesn’t want them around as they will interfere with what he is about to do. He also doesn’t want a circus. Miracles are not always to be performed front and center. Word will get around, no doubt about it. As he often does, Jesus puts the break on the PR machinery of the day. No need to fan the flames of curiosity. Faith and morbid curiosity are not the same.
So what Jesus does instead is shut out the mourners – and everyone else. When he arrives at and enters the house, he takes only the parents and his three trusted friends, Peter, James and John. This is a miracle that does not need to be seen to be believed. Rather, it is a miracle to be witnessed only by a select few – the parents who have asked for Jesus’ help and Jesus’ inner circle. The former are there for the daughter when she is brought to life and the latter are there because Jesus, even at his most supernatural, almost never works alone. The father, in particular, is invited, because Jesus has come in response to his specific request.
As Jesus enters the inner part of the house where the daughter’s body lies, he has a word for the professional mourners and for all family and friends who have gathered. “Stop wailing.” I can read this in two ways. One, it is a sharp rebuke. Two, it is a firm yet caring directive. I am inclined to the former by default, though there is no reason to do so, other than that is the way I might have handled it – out of irritation or consternation. But, again, these people are doing nothing wrong or out of the ordinary. This is how you process the passing of life – and there is no reason beforehand to suspect that this case will end differently than any other. I think Jesus was using the second approach.
Jesus adds by way of explanation, “She is not dead but asleep.” He has not even seen the child, they are thinking, and is jumping to silly conclusions. They know she is dead. In fact, there is no reason to question that fact. But they misunderstand Jesus, who is not denying the state of her body. The gospel writer doesn’t seem to question it either. Jesus is cryptically explaining to the gathered crowd that the reason they are to stop mourning is because death is not the final state of this situation.
Their response is to laugh. Laughter can have many meanings. The short of it is that it is ludicrous to think that the girl is anything but dead and going to stay that way.
While Luke writes very succinctly at this point, the inference, which is confirmed by Matthew and Mark, is that as Jesus enters the room, he sends out all but those he has specifically invited. Assuming there is a door on the room’s doorway – and we cannot assume as much – someone closes this door. Or at least, everyone is chased away from looking in. The setting has no place for distractions.
This is not about proving Jesus’ ability to raise the dead. It is about answering a father’s cry for help. I like that about Jesus – the way he deals firmly but compassionately with distractions, the way he focuses on the need at hand. The woman who earlier was chronically sick was not a distraction; the people now gathered to grieve are. And so, Jesus shuts the door on grieving momentarily so that those present can bear witness to what is about to happen. He doesn’t need their fullest attention to make the miracle happen. He invites their utmost attention so that they can experience the miracle to its fullest.
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