Luke 7:44-50
Ever notice how much of the Gospel stories deal with Jesus at dinners and banquets and how many of those dinners and banquets involve sinners as either hosts or uninvited guests? Come to think of it, there may be more stories of Jesus at such parties than there are of him in the synagogue.
Even here at the house of Simon the Pharisee (not to be confused with Simon Peter, the Disciple), what is remembered is the encounter with a certain sinner woman. She washes, kisses and anoints Jesus' feet and then in response to Simon's obvious disapproval, Jesus tells a story about forgiveness. Next Jesus speaks directly to Simon while looking at this woman.
First, Jesus tells Simon that the woman did what a more proper host in that time and place would have done -- wash the guests' feet. Simon also did not give Jesus a kiss -- speaking perhaps of the customary greeting with a kiss on the cheek, like we modern Westerners shake hands. For some reason, Simon didn't give Jesus a proper greeting. In contrast, this woman has taken care of all these hosting priorities and done so effusively, going beyond the ordinary by anointing Jesus with oil.
What Jesus says next gets downright confusing when you try to sort it out. Jesus is explaining these things to his host in follow-up to the story about the two men who have been forgiven debts, concluding, "Therefore, her many sins have been forgiven." And then he adds, speaking directly to the woman, "Your sins are forgiven."
The crowd reacts as would be expected, exclaiming surprise that Jesus goes even so far as to forgive sins. Other religious leaders have been known to teach, to heal, to do miracles, to cast out demons - but to forgive sins?! Elsewhere Jesus deals with why he can and does forgive sins, but at this time the focus remains on what happens to the woman -- that she is forgiven -- not on what Jesus does and why.
So, which is the cause and which is the effect? The woman's actions toward Jesus? Or, Jesus forgiving the woman? Has she been forgiven because of her actions toward Jesus or were her actions a response to having already been forgiven? Or was that forgiveness presupposed because she would respond in such a fashion?
In the end, Jesus never clarifies these questions, though he does tell her that it is her faith that has saved her. So her actions were simply an outward expression of an inner faith. But, again, which comes first, the forgiveness or the faith?
We tend to want to approach these kinds of issues systematically, drawing from all sorts of biblical sources and weaving a complete picture. We do this so that we don't have to deal with any holes in our reasoning. As people of faith, we do not like holes, perhaps fearful as we are that our faith might somehow seep out through those holes and leave us without faith. But faith is not a hole-less cloth, an ironclad guarantee that there are no holes, no doubts, no conflicts, no confusion. Faith is what we assert precisely because we do have holes and questions. That does not make faith unreasonable - it just means that faith is not the same as mathematic proofs.
So what is happening here? Jesus says her sins have been forgiven. What he does not clarify is when she was forgiven - the condition is more important than the timing.
He does make clear that she does these acts of love in response to being forgiven. And then afterward Jesus declares that her sins have been forgiven, meaning he forgives her. Finally he declares that it is her own faith, her own trust in Jesus, that has saved her. If Jesus had wanted Simon and the other guests to sort it all out, he would have been more straightforward.
Instead of answering all our questions, he simply affirms that it is our faith that saves us; that Jesus is the one who forgives sins; and that when we've been forgiven much, we love much in return. The more we respond in love to his love and forgiveness, the more we are forgiven. It starts with Jesus and snowballs from there. Anyone who cries "enough already", doesn't understand Jesus or his love and forgiveness. It never ends, overwhelming us to the last.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Jesus, Simon, and the Sinful Woman - Part II
Luke 7:40-43
Jesus was a story-teller, which is why people, even those who hated his teachings and methods, often invited him into their homes, especially for banquets. Story-telling and good food go hand in hand in just about every culture. And Jesus was a master at the former.
I remember as a kid sitting enthralled and frequently doubled over in laughter as larger-than-life Uncle Al Reid, seated at the head of the long Thanksgiving table in Grandma's house, regaled us with one story after another. A prize-fighter turned preacher, he had traveled the world and had a way with turning his memories into vivid forms of entertainment that confirmed what we used to read in the Reader's Digest, that laughter is indeed the best medicine.
I once heard a lengthy discourse on why Jesus was not humorous in his story-telling. I don't believe that for one moment. The Creator of humor was not beyond using it himself. Yet whether in humor or in all-seriousness, his stories were designed to inform as well as entertain, as all the best stories can do.
The setting and story on this occasion in Luke 7 were far from humorous. It was a very tense moment. A known local "sinner woman", a woman of questionable character, euphemistically meaning there was no question her character was bad, had entered the house of one Simon, a prominent local Pharisee, who was entertaining Jesus at dinner. If it wasn't bad enough for her to enter this "pure and clean" house, she then proceeded to touch Jesus, wash and even kiss his feet.
Washing the feet of guests was a fairly common custom. Kissing them was a bit more unusual. But none of that mattered more than that a holy man as Jesus was reputed to be had allowed himself to be defiled by being touched by this woman of all people.
Simon said nothing. His thoughts spoke loud enough, at least to Jesus. "What kind of a man is this that would allow a woman like that to touch him."
Jesus responded to Simon's reaction by doing as he often did, telling a story. We call them parables, meaning a story rich in meaning, or more precisely a meaningful story that invites the listener to draw the conclusion. As stories go, this one was quite short.
Two guys owe a third man, a professional moneylender, and it is payback time. Neither of them has what they owe. One of the two owes about a day's worth, the other about two year's worth, based on an average day's pay for an average worker. Surprise of all surprises, the moneylender just up and cancels their debts, both of them. Scot free. No questions asked. Not even a "just don't come back" or "Just you wait." End of story.
Then Jesus uses one of his favorite teaching techniques -- he asks a question. "Which of these two guys who was forgiven the debt will love the lender more because of having the debt cancelled?"
Simon assumed it was the man who had owed the larger debt. Jesus cried "bingo" or something more PC like "you have judged correctly."
Point of the story -- the more you owe, the more grateful you feel when your debts are canceled. That is something all of us can identify with.
Although Jesus isn't yet finished talking with Simon about this, I begin to sense that the more for which we have to be forgiven, the more love we will feel in response. Or, maybe if we don't love God in response to being forgiven, it is because we do not realize how much of a debt we really owed. Either way, it is interesting how strongly forgiveness breeds connectedness. Poor Simon, he hadn't sinned enough to get close to Jesus.
Jesus was a story-teller, which is why people, even those who hated his teachings and methods, often invited him into their homes, especially for banquets. Story-telling and good food go hand in hand in just about every culture. And Jesus was a master at the former.
I remember as a kid sitting enthralled and frequently doubled over in laughter as larger-than-life Uncle Al Reid, seated at the head of the long Thanksgiving table in Grandma's house, regaled us with one story after another. A prize-fighter turned preacher, he had traveled the world and had a way with turning his memories into vivid forms of entertainment that confirmed what we used to read in the Reader's Digest, that laughter is indeed the best medicine.
I once heard a lengthy discourse on why Jesus was not humorous in his story-telling. I don't believe that for one moment. The Creator of humor was not beyond using it himself. Yet whether in humor or in all-seriousness, his stories were designed to inform as well as entertain, as all the best stories can do.
The setting and story on this occasion in Luke 7 were far from humorous. It was a very tense moment. A known local "sinner woman", a woman of questionable character, euphemistically meaning there was no question her character was bad, had entered the house of one Simon, a prominent local Pharisee, who was entertaining Jesus at dinner. If it wasn't bad enough for her to enter this "pure and clean" house, she then proceeded to touch Jesus, wash and even kiss his feet.
Washing the feet of guests was a fairly common custom. Kissing them was a bit more unusual. But none of that mattered more than that a holy man as Jesus was reputed to be had allowed himself to be defiled by being touched by this woman of all people.
Simon said nothing. His thoughts spoke loud enough, at least to Jesus. "What kind of a man is this that would allow a woman like that to touch him."
Jesus responded to Simon's reaction by doing as he often did, telling a story. We call them parables, meaning a story rich in meaning, or more precisely a meaningful story that invites the listener to draw the conclusion. As stories go, this one was quite short.
Two guys owe a third man, a professional moneylender, and it is payback time. Neither of them has what they owe. One of the two owes about a day's worth, the other about two year's worth, based on an average day's pay for an average worker. Surprise of all surprises, the moneylender just up and cancels their debts, both of them. Scot free. No questions asked. Not even a "just don't come back" or "Just you wait." End of story.
Then Jesus uses one of his favorite teaching techniques -- he asks a question. "Which of these two guys who was forgiven the debt will love the lender more because of having the debt cancelled?"
Simon assumed it was the man who had owed the larger debt. Jesus cried "bingo" or something more PC like "you have judged correctly."
Point of the story -- the more you owe, the more grateful you feel when your debts are canceled. That is something all of us can identify with.
Although Jesus isn't yet finished talking with Simon about this, I begin to sense that the more for which we have to be forgiven, the more love we will feel in response. Or, maybe if we don't love God in response to being forgiven, it is because we do not realize how much of a debt we really owed. Either way, it is interesting how strongly forgiveness breeds connectedness. Poor Simon, he hadn't sinned enough to get close to Jesus.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Jesus, Simon, and the Sinful Woman - Part I
Luke 7:36-39
How would you like that for an appellation? "Sinful Woman." Sounds exotic only for the depraved. Mostly it sounds degrading, like you diss yourself and then everyone else disses you more. Nothing but a pile of freshly laid fertilizer. I have a feeling that is exactly what she felt like.
That was her reputation in the town: "a woman who had lived a sinful life." Two thousand years ago the unspoken was the same as it would be today. Funny how we assume that the sinfulness doesn't mean gossip or jealousy or even pride. By looking at the Written Guide He's left us, it is evident God measures sin quite differently than we do, sin being anything that separates us from His love. For us humans there are sins and then there are SINS. And this woman had committed the ones in caps.
To be a sinner of the capital sort, you sins had to involve witchcraft (which didn't seem to be as prevalent in the Gospels), idol-worshipping (something rarely found by then among the Jews), swindling other people's money (tax collectors) or sexual immorality, especially selling your body for sex, apparently the worst sin of all. This woman was a hands-down bet to be in the last category. She'd earned her reputation fair and square. Somehow she'd been so degraded in life that her body meant little more than economic exchange even to her.
Pharisees were the opposite of sinners, at least of the capital sort. And so when one of the Pharisees in a particular town invited Jesus to dinner, Jesus was entering a holy house, a home where you would never find that kind of a woman, of all people.
When That Woman heard that Jesus was having dinner at this particular Pharisee's house, she did a very brazen thing. She bought an alabaster jar of perfume, slipped into the house and started anointing Jesus' feet with that perfume, her tears and her kisses. The custom of the day was to lay down (recline) while eating, which meant your feet were behind you, away from the eating area. So when she came to Jesus' feet, she was behind him -- where Jesus wouldn't necessarily see her approaching, but almost everyone else could.
Guaranteed the minute she entered the house, everyone knew it. An awkward hush would have settled over everyone and all would have looked at the master of the house to see what he would do. The master of the house, avoiding even glancing at such a woman once he recognized her, looked straight at Jesus as if to say, "What have you done, Jesus, allowing this woman to enter my house?"
Sounds strange to us today, having someone washing your feet while you're sitting at the dinner table. But such was the custom of the day. Servants washed the feet of a guest who entered the house, sandled and therefore dusty. So the fact that someone was washing his feet while he was reclining at the dinner table would have been scant attraction, to Jesus or anyone else for that matter. Servants weren't even acknowledged, let alone thanked for such a mundane task.
The Pharisee is not amazed that Jesus doesn't notice someone is washing his feet. The Pharisee is amazed that either a) Jesus doesn't discern who this person is or even worse b) doesn't care. No one properly obsessed with righteousness would have been found lacking 24/7 vigilance to make sure nothing or no one sinful would get anywhere near. Maybe Jesus being a prophet didn't have to keep on the lookout, his spiritual sensors doing the work for him. But those spiritual sensors, if he as a respectable prophet had them, were letting him down now.
The Pharisee didn't want to say so, but he feared the unthinkable, that Jesus didn't care. Did he care that his own righteousness could be so stained, that his own reputation could be so tainted? It was beyond appalling. And everyone except Jesus froze as this woman carried out her dastardly deed. Jesus, meanwhile, carried on as if nothing were out of the ordinary at all. I wonder, just wonder, if that is the same way Jesus acts any time I approach him, too.
How would you like that for an appellation? "Sinful Woman." Sounds exotic only for the depraved. Mostly it sounds degrading, like you diss yourself and then everyone else disses you more. Nothing but a pile of freshly laid fertilizer. I have a feeling that is exactly what she felt like.
That was her reputation in the town: "a woman who had lived a sinful life." Two thousand years ago the unspoken was the same as it would be today. Funny how we assume that the sinfulness doesn't mean gossip or jealousy or even pride. By looking at the Written Guide He's left us, it is evident God measures sin quite differently than we do, sin being anything that separates us from His love. For us humans there are sins and then there are SINS. And this woman had committed the ones in caps.
To be a sinner of the capital sort, you sins had to involve witchcraft (which didn't seem to be as prevalent in the Gospels), idol-worshipping (something rarely found by then among the Jews), swindling other people's money (tax collectors) or sexual immorality, especially selling your body for sex, apparently the worst sin of all. This woman was a hands-down bet to be in the last category. She'd earned her reputation fair and square. Somehow she'd been so degraded in life that her body meant little more than economic exchange even to her.
Pharisees were the opposite of sinners, at least of the capital sort. And so when one of the Pharisees in a particular town invited Jesus to dinner, Jesus was entering a holy house, a home where you would never find that kind of a woman, of all people.
When That Woman heard that Jesus was having dinner at this particular Pharisee's house, she did a very brazen thing. She bought an alabaster jar of perfume, slipped into the house and started anointing Jesus' feet with that perfume, her tears and her kisses. The custom of the day was to lay down (recline) while eating, which meant your feet were behind you, away from the eating area. So when she came to Jesus' feet, she was behind him -- where Jesus wouldn't necessarily see her approaching, but almost everyone else could.
Guaranteed the minute she entered the house, everyone knew it. An awkward hush would have settled over everyone and all would have looked at the master of the house to see what he would do. The master of the house, avoiding even glancing at such a woman once he recognized her, looked straight at Jesus as if to say, "What have you done, Jesus, allowing this woman to enter my house?"
Sounds strange to us today, having someone washing your feet while you're sitting at the dinner table. But such was the custom of the day. Servants washed the feet of a guest who entered the house, sandled and therefore dusty. So the fact that someone was washing his feet while he was reclining at the dinner table would have been scant attraction, to Jesus or anyone else for that matter. Servants weren't even acknowledged, let alone thanked for such a mundane task.
The Pharisee is not amazed that Jesus doesn't notice someone is washing his feet. The Pharisee is amazed that either a) Jesus doesn't discern who this person is or even worse b) doesn't care. No one properly obsessed with righteousness would have been found lacking 24/7 vigilance to make sure nothing or no one sinful would get anywhere near. Maybe Jesus being a prophet didn't have to keep on the lookout, his spiritual sensors doing the work for him. But those spiritual sensors, if he as a respectable prophet had them, were letting him down now.
The Pharisee didn't want to say so, but he feared the unthinkable, that Jesus didn't care. Did he care that his own righteousness could be so stained, that his own reputation could be so tainted? It was beyond appalling. And everyone except Jesus froze as this woman carried out her dastardly deed. Jesus, meanwhile, carried on as if nothing were out of the ordinary at all. I wonder, just wonder, if that is the same way Jesus acts any time I approach him, too.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Self-Doubts - Part IV
Luke 7:31-35
Ever get into a discussion with someone in which it felt like no matter what you said, it was the wrong thing? Sounds like political talk radio where they play a game of "gotcha!" Jesus was facing a similarly tough crowd. These folks couldn't be pleased if God Himself came in the flesh.
John, Jesus' cousin, came refusing to eat about everything except flying bugs and they said he was demon-possessed, a lunatic. Jesus came indulging in lavish banquets and wedding feasts and imbibing in who-knows-what-all and hanging out with all kinds of rabble and they called him a glutton, a drunkard and, worst of all, a friend of tax collectors and the rankest of hell-bent losers.
Jesus compared these self-appointed judges with children at play, of something along the lines of "Simon Says" where a leader calls out a command to be followed and everyone else has to do just that or else fall back to the beginning. Or perhaps they are children who cannot agree on what game to play and so they end up taunting each other for lack of common interest.
Here is one group wanting you to dance by the light melody of a flute. Here is another group insisting you cry as they sing out a mournful funeral hymn. Sounds like contemporary wars over worship styles.
Diverse as their styles and even their messages are, both Jesus and John have come as God's messengers. The odd thing about this omnipotent, omnipresent and eternal God we serve is that all too often those who serve Him prefer to force God's followers into very narrow slots, expectations of conformity that supposedly define what a true worshipper of God must look and act like. Jesus deals with these false expectations of God-worshippers elsewhere and frequently. But here he is talking specifically about false expectations concerning God's messengers.
John's ministry has been greatly misunderstood by many of those listening to Jesus on this particular day. Even John himself is not sure of his own ministry. People, like bored kids at play, are so quick to judge and taunt. Jesus replies by challenging them that nothing will satisfy them -- precisely because they are not interested in what God has to say whether through human messengers or, as he says elsewhere, through the angelic kind. They really don't want to understand, so they only accuse.
In other words, John is not the problem. Like when your mother told you that if nothing satisfied you at dinner, it must not be the dinner that was the problem. At least that is what my mother would have said. The problem is the crowd itself for whom nothing can please.
So what IS the message from God? It isn't contained in any single sound-bite, but in the whole counsel of God that comes through true messengers such as John and Jesus. And that message is one of both repentance and celebration all rolled up into one.
"Wisdom," Jesus says, "is proved right by all her children." At first glance, I think maybe the saying means that wisdom is found in all God's children collectively. But then I begin to notice that, while that inclusiveness has been addressed earlier in the implication that messengers as diverse as John and Jesus do really speak for God, that is not the point of this concluding statement.
As the old expression says, "The proof is in the pudding." That which is wise will be proven by what comes as a result. You may not be satisfied with the messenger or the message, but wait and see what comes of it. Not sure about John? Then it is probably too early to say. Just wait and see. If what John said was true, it will prove to be so soon enough.
I don't know about you, but I take comfort in that. It is too easy to look at our own lives and wonder if we missed the mark somewhere, as is the case with John whose self-doubts have started this whole discussion. But the evidence of worthy labor is not short-seasoned like radishes. Rather, as with giant sequoias, confirmation of fruitfulness can be long in coming, especially by the standards of our nanoseconded age.
Ever get into a discussion with someone in which it felt like no matter what you said, it was the wrong thing? Sounds like political talk radio where they play a game of "gotcha!" Jesus was facing a similarly tough crowd. These folks couldn't be pleased if God Himself came in the flesh.
John, Jesus' cousin, came refusing to eat about everything except flying bugs and they said he was demon-possessed, a lunatic. Jesus came indulging in lavish banquets and wedding feasts and imbibing in who-knows-what-all and hanging out with all kinds of rabble and they called him a glutton, a drunkard and, worst of all, a friend of tax collectors and the rankest of hell-bent losers.
Jesus compared these self-appointed judges with children at play, of something along the lines of "Simon Says" where a leader calls out a command to be followed and everyone else has to do just that or else fall back to the beginning. Or perhaps they are children who cannot agree on what game to play and so they end up taunting each other for lack of common interest.
Here is one group wanting you to dance by the light melody of a flute. Here is another group insisting you cry as they sing out a mournful funeral hymn. Sounds like contemporary wars over worship styles.
Diverse as their styles and even their messages are, both Jesus and John have come as God's messengers. The odd thing about this omnipotent, omnipresent and eternal God we serve is that all too often those who serve Him prefer to force God's followers into very narrow slots, expectations of conformity that supposedly define what a true worshipper of God must look and act like. Jesus deals with these false expectations of God-worshippers elsewhere and frequently. But here he is talking specifically about false expectations concerning God's messengers.
John's ministry has been greatly misunderstood by many of those listening to Jesus on this particular day. Even John himself is not sure of his own ministry. People, like bored kids at play, are so quick to judge and taunt. Jesus replies by challenging them that nothing will satisfy them -- precisely because they are not interested in what God has to say whether through human messengers or, as he says elsewhere, through the angelic kind. They really don't want to understand, so they only accuse.
In other words, John is not the problem. Like when your mother told you that if nothing satisfied you at dinner, it must not be the dinner that was the problem. At least that is what my mother would have said. The problem is the crowd itself for whom nothing can please.
So what IS the message from God? It isn't contained in any single sound-bite, but in the whole counsel of God that comes through true messengers such as John and Jesus. And that message is one of both repentance and celebration all rolled up into one.
"Wisdom," Jesus says, "is proved right by all her children." At first glance, I think maybe the saying means that wisdom is found in all God's children collectively. But then I begin to notice that, while that inclusiveness has been addressed earlier in the implication that messengers as diverse as John and Jesus do really speak for God, that is not the point of this concluding statement.
As the old expression says, "The proof is in the pudding." That which is wise will be proven by what comes as a result. You may not be satisfied with the messenger or the message, but wait and see what comes of it. Not sure about John? Then it is probably too early to say. Just wait and see. If what John said was true, it will prove to be so soon enough.
I don't know about you, but I take comfort in that. It is too easy to look at our own lives and wonder if we missed the mark somewhere, as is the case with John whose self-doubts have started this whole discussion. But the evidence of worthy labor is not short-seasoned like radishes. Rather, as with giant sequoias, confirmation of fruitfulness can be long in coming, especially by the standards of our nanoseconded age.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Self-Doubts - Part III
Luke 7:24-30
I read this passage and the first thing that comes to mind is, Why didn't Jesus send THIS message to John the Baptizer? John, in prison and about to die, needs reassurance. He is reeling, wondering if his life is pointless. In answer to John's question, "Are you the One my life has been all about, Jesus?" the answer is to show him all the great things he, Jesus, is doing. What is really in John's mind is, Is he (John) really who he thinks he himself is - a prophet and the Forerunner to the Messiah?
What Jesus doesn't tell John, but instead tells everyone else who is observing the conversation between Jesus and John's friends, is that John is the real thing. You didn't go out in the desert, Jesus tells them, to see some wishy-washy, tell-them-what-they-want-to-hear kind of a guy. Jesus uses a simple metaphor his agrarian listeners understand: John is no weak reed that will bend in whatever wind is blowing. Moreover, John is not dressed up in fine, expensive clothes or indulging in other luxuries -- in other words, he isn't in this for himself.
Jesus affirms to all who will listen that John has indeed been a prophet, one willing to speak God's message plain and openly regardless the outcome. In fact, Jesus adds that John is more than just an ordinary prophet; he is the one that the prophet Malachi had said would come to prepare the way for the Lord. Malachi speaks specifically that this Forerunner-Prophet will prepare the way for the God of Justice, which is exactly what John has been hoping is the case and that Jesus avoids in his answer to John. For it is the message of Justice that John's ministry anticipates.
I wonder why this isn't the answer that Jesus gives John and I realize that John's self-identity has got to be anchored in the reality of Jesus, not in what people think of him (John) as a prophet. I recall years ago David Wilkerson, who had become well-known as an evangelist among New York's down-and-outers, started sounding more and more like a prophet, the result of which was that people began backing away from supporting him. Actually Wilkerson was also acting in the role of a prophet when he went to the down-and-outers others were avoiding, but helping "them" tends to make givers more charitable than saying things like "the end of your lives of comfort is near."
A mentor at that time shared with me an insight he had about evangelists and prophets. Evangelists, he said, are supported by the people who send them out, whereas prophets are taken care of by God himself. I see now that any prophet who depends on his support from people is either going to starve to death or be tempted to modify his message to generate better support.
To his audience, Jesus is quick to affirm that John was very much a prophet -- and no ordinary prophet at that. John is greater than all who have come before him, because he has opened the door onto a very different age, the Age of the Spirit, which Jesus is in the process of ushering in. And yet, in the strange dynamics of this new age, in this kingdom Jesus has come to establish, John -- as great as he is -- is less than the least of those in this new kingdom. Paradoxical and hard to understand until you realize that order and priority and importance in God's reign are all mixed up as far as we humans are concerned. What we think is important is not so to God, and vice versa. The first are last and the last are first, Jesus says elsewhere.
We see this mix-up in the response of the crowd. Luke writes parenthetically that the common people, odious tax collectors even, are affirming Jesus' words about John, because they themselves have been baptized by John -- they who have accepted John's message so they are equally eager to accept Jesus'. But the Pharisees and experts in the law, those who have rejected John, are now totally opposed to Jesus. In fact, Luke writes that these kinds of people, in rejecting the baptism of John and the message of Jesus, are actually rejecting God's purpose for themselves.
John lost his life for speaking truth -- and for the same reason Jesus would eventually lose his. God takes care of the prophets, perhaps, but he doesn't promise them a long and luxurious life -- at least not in the here and now.
I read this passage and the first thing that comes to mind is, Why didn't Jesus send THIS message to John the Baptizer? John, in prison and about to die, needs reassurance. He is reeling, wondering if his life is pointless. In answer to John's question, "Are you the One my life has been all about, Jesus?" the answer is to show him all the great things he, Jesus, is doing. What is really in John's mind is, Is he (John) really who he thinks he himself is - a prophet and the Forerunner to the Messiah?
What Jesus doesn't tell John, but instead tells everyone else who is observing the conversation between Jesus and John's friends, is that John is the real thing. You didn't go out in the desert, Jesus tells them, to see some wishy-washy, tell-them-what-they-want-to-hear kind of a guy. Jesus uses a simple metaphor his agrarian listeners understand: John is no weak reed that will bend in whatever wind is blowing. Moreover, John is not dressed up in fine, expensive clothes or indulging in other luxuries -- in other words, he isn't in this for himself.
Jesus affirms to all who will listen that John has indeed been a prophet, one willing to speak God's message plain and openly regardless the outcome. In fact, Jesus adds that John is more than just an ordinary prophet; he is the one that the prophet Malachi had said would come to prepare the way for the Lord. Malachi speaks specifically that this Forerunner-Prophet will prepare the way for the God of Justice, which is exactly what John has been hoping is the case and that Jesus avoids in his answer to John. For it is the message of Justice that John's ministry anticipates.
I wonder why this isn't the answer that Jesus gives John and I realize that John's self-identity has got to be anchored in the reality of Jesus, not in what people think of him (John) as a prophet. I recall years ago David Wilkerson, who had become well-known as an evangelist among New York's down-and-outers, started sounding more and more like a prophet, the result of which was that people began backing away from supporting him. Actually Wilkerson was also acting in the role of a prophet when he went to the down-and-outers others were avoiding, but helping "them" tends to make givers more charitable than saying things like "the end of your lives of comfort is near."
A mentor at that time shared with me an insight he had about evangelists and prophets. Evangelists, he said, are supported by the people who send them out, whereas prophets are taken care of by God himself. I see now that any prophet who depends on his support from people is either going to starve to death or be tempted to modify his message to generate better support.
To his audience, Jesus is quick to affirm that John was very much a prophet -- and no ordinary prophet at that. John is greater than all who have come before him, because he has opened the door onto a very different age, the Age of the Spirit, which Jesus is in the process of ushering in. And yet, in the strange dynamics of this new age, in this kingdom Jesus has come to establish, John -- as great as he is -- is less than the least of those in this new kingdom. Paradoxical and hard to understand until you realize that order and priority and importance in God's reign are all mixed up as far as we humans are concerned. What we think is important is not so to God, and vice versa. The first are last and the last are first, Jesus says elsewhere.
We see this mix-up in the response of the crowd. Luke writes parenthetically that the common people, odious tax collectors even, are affirming Jesus' words about John, because they themselves have been baptized by John -- they who have accepted John's message so they are equally eager to accept Jesus'. But the Pharisees and experts in the law, those who have rejected John, are now totally opposed to Jesus. In fact, Luke writes that these kinds of people, in rejecting the baptism of John and the message of Jesus, are actually rejecting God's purpose for themselves.
John lost his life for speaking truth -- and for the same reason Jesus would eventually lose his. God takes care of the prophets, perhaps, but he doesn't promise them a long and luxurious life -- at least not in the here and now.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Self-Doubts - Part II
Luke 7:21-23
These two guys come to the famous teacher with tough questions from their boss. They ask these questions and wait for an answer. No answer comes. The teacher goes on with his work, seeming to ignore the inquirers.
A movie scene comes to mind -- "Karate Kid". The boy is pestering his mentor who appears to ignore him, snapping instead with chopsticks at a noisome fly. At last, the mentor replies to the effect of "Shut up, Kid, you're messing up my concentration."
We could never say "shut up" in my home when I was a kid and I could have never imagined Jesus saying "shut up" to anyone, not even the devil. "Shut up" has more than four letters, but it was almost in the same category as course Anglo-Saxonese.
Yet, Jesus does seem to ignore these guys that John the Baptizer has sent over, or so the writer Luke seems to hint. These messengers have found Jesus in one of his healing sprees -- a time when all kinds of people are getting cured, demons are being exorcised, and miracles, like the blind being given sight, are happening. Heady stuff. In the midst of this, they tell Jesus the message John has given them. And instead of replying, Jesus just keeps on doing what he's been doing.
I don't know what was going on in the minds of these two messengers. Agitation that Jesus doesn't do something about John right away? After all, Jesus and John are cousins and didn't John help launch Jesus' ministry? Or maybe they waited with anticipation that in a moment Jesus would do something dramatic, like organize this bunch of well-healed masses to bust John out of evil Herod's dungeon. Most likely they just stood waiting, taking it all in, knowing that regardless of the supernatural events going on around them, they had a job to do and John was depending on them to come back with an answer.
Luke doesn't record how long they waited, but it was long enough to see plenty of miracles and healings and exorcisms. Then and only then does Jesus answer these messengers. "Go back and tell John what you have been seeing and hearing." It is quite a litany: the blind are seeing, the lame are walking, those with leprosy are being cured, the deaf are hearing, and the dead are living. Oh, and the poor are hearing lots of good news.
My inclination would have been to tell Jesus, that's all well and good. But what about John? He's still in prison, isn't he? What are you going to do about John?
Truth be told, nothing. Jesus does nothing about John. And in fact, shortly after this encounter, John is killed. Beheaded. His severed head used as a prop in a royal family drama. So much for John. A lot of good Jesus' miracles and teachings have done him.
Then Jesus adds a line to this "good news" he is sending back to John: "Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."
That is the message John really needs to hear. John doesn't just need to know if Jesus is the Messiah. John needs to know if Jesus is his Messiah. There's that classic line from "Field of Dreams": "What's in it for me?"
Indeed what is in it for John? What Jesus is saying parallels Jesus' inaugural address recorded in Luke 4:18-19, which is a quote from Isaiah. What is missing now from the Isaiah text is "and the day of vengeance" (61:2). Instead, Herod and other tyrants have their day while the righteous languish in prison.
"John," Jesus seems to be saying, "you haven't seen it all yet. Hang in there and all that you originally expected of me will at last come to pass. Meanwhile, don't stumble on account of what is not happening. Trust your belief in me.
These two guys come to the famous teacher with tough questions from their boss. They ask these questions and wait for an answer. No answer comes. The teacher goes on with his work, seeming to ignore the inquirers.
A movie scene comes to mind -- "Karate Kid". The boy is pestering his mentor who appears to ignore him, snapping instead with chopsticks at a noisome fly. At last, the mentor replies to the effect of "Shut up, Kid, you're messing up my concentration."
We could never say "shut up" in my home when I was a kid and I could have never imagined Jesus saying "shut up" to anyone, not even the devil. "Shut up" has more than four letters, but it was almost in the same category as course Anglo-Saxonese.
Yet, Jesus does seem to ignore these guys that John the Baptizer has sent over, or so the writer Luke seems to hint. These messengers have found Jesus in one of his healing sprees -- a time when all kinds of people are getting cured, demons are being exorcised, and miracles, like the blind being given sight, are happening. Heady stuff. In the midst of this, they tell Jesus the message John has given them. And instead of replying, Jesus just keeps on doing what he's been doing.
I don't know what was going on in the minds of these two messengers. Agitation that Jesus doesn't do something about John right away? After all, Jesus and John are cousins and didn't John help launch Jesus' ministry? Or maybe they waited with anticipation that in a moment Jesus would do something dramatic, like organize this bunch of well-healed masses to bust John out of evil Herod's dungeon. Most likely they just stood waiting, taking it all in, knowing that regardless of the supernatural events going on around them, they had a job to do and John was depending on them to come back with an answer.
Luke doesn't record how long they waited, but it was long enough to see plenty of miracles and healings and exorcisms. Then and only then does Jesus answer these messengers. "Go back and tell John what you have been seeing and hearing." It is quite a litany: the blind are seeing, the lame are walking, those with leprosy are being cured, the deaf are hearing, and the dead are living. Oh, and the poor are hearing lots of good news.
My inclination would have been to tell Jesus, that's all well and good. But what about John? He's still in prison, isn't he? What are you going to do about John?
Truth be told, nothing. Jesus does nothing about John. And in fact, shortly after this encounter, John is killed. Beheaded. His severed head used as a prop in a royal family drama. So much for John. A lot of good Jesus' miracles and teachings have done him.
Then Jesus adds a line to this "good news" he is sending back to John: "Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."
That is the message John really needs to hear. John doesn't just need to know if Jesus is the Messiah. John needs to know if Jesus is his Messiah. There's that classic line from "Field of Dreams": "What's in it for me?"
Indeed what is in it for John? What Jesus is saying parallels Jesus' inaugural address recorded in Luke 4:18-19, which is a quote from Isaiah. What is missing now from the Isaiah text is "and the day of vengeance" (61:2). Instead, Herod and other tyrants have their day while the righteous languish in prison.
"John," Jesus seems to be saying, "you haven't seen it all yet. Hang in there and all that you originally expected of me will at last come to pass. Meanwhile, don't stumble on account of what is not happening. Trust your belief in me.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Self-Doubts
Luke 7:18-20
You're going "like sixty" and good things are happening -- or at least things are happening, whether they are good or not. You have an ultimate aim in life and you are bound and determined to get there. Then all of a sudden, the world stops spinning and you find your universe falling apart, all the stable things in your life flying off in all directions. Your personal gravitational force has quit functioning. What before you assumed you could hang on to for stability no longer avails itself. You are free-floating, drifting off in a sea of useless flotsam.
That's how John, the one we know as the Baptizer, must have felt. He's doing exactly what he believes God has called him to do -- preach repentance to prince and pauper alike and baptize all willing to repent. Then one day he preaches repentance to the king, happens to be a semi-king named Herod. Tells Herod that he was wrong to take his brother's wife and wrong to do a whole bunch of other things. And for that he lands in prison.
Luke puts it in a classic way. "Herod added this to all the other evil things he had done: He locked John up in prison." (3:20)
So there John sits with nothing to do but think on his mess of a situation. As he sorts it all out, he realizes that his primary purpose in life was to be the forerunner, the announcer of the Messiah. That's what the angel said to his parents before he was born. That's why he lived in the desert all those years and put up with all that he encountered in life, including this wrongful prison sentence. Why, he was even a teetotaler, all because that's what the angel said he needed to do. He gave up a normal life as a young man to fulfill his God-given mission in life. And hadn't he passed the spotlight on to his cousin, Jesus, because he had discerned that Jesus was the Messiah, the one for whom he was to prepare the way? He, John, must step back so that Jesus could step forward into the limelight.
If that is indeed the case, that his role has been simply to prepare the way for the Lord, then all this -- even prison -- is worth it. But left with only his own thoughts to keep him company, John begins to wonder.
One day some of his own disciples manage to get in to see him and they share all that Jesus has been doing - the teachings, the crowds, the miracles. So John sends two of these friends of his to ask Jesus, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"
John just wants to make sure. Of all his responsibilities, by far the most significant was to announce to the world that the Messiah had come. Whatever else happens -- whether he is freed, languishes in prison, or is killed -- as long as he has achieved this most important responsibility, then his life has been worth everything he has been through or is going to go through.
There is only one person who can give him the answer: Jesus himself. He trusts Jesus -- one, because deep down inside he still believes Jesus is the Messiah, and, two, because Jesus is, after all, his cousin. And if by some chance, Jesus is not the Messiah, as John had thought, his cousin will surely not let him down.
Self-doubts are very much a part of every life. And they are particularly to be expected when life turns sour, when the unexpected arises, when our dreams morph into nightmares. Left to our own devises with no external clarification, these internal wrestlings can turn into painful, deadening depression.
What dispels self-doubt is a sense that what we have been or are going through has some higher purpose, especially if that higher purpose is connected with some mission we have already had in life or something new to which we can aspire. John senses that the only person who can clarify these inner wranglings is Jesus himself. Even if the answer he gets is the worst-case scenario (as in, John was totally wrong about Jesus), an awful answer is better than no answer at all.
So John turns to the only one he knows who can answer his own doubts and the only one he knows who will be honest with him, no matter how hard the truth is: Jesus. Even in this darkest hour, John reaches deep inside and finds a whisper of faith to hang on to - and in that whisper, hope is born anew.
You're going "like sixty" and good things are happening -- or at least things are happening, whether they are good or not. You have an ultimate aim in life and you are bound and determined to get there. Then all of a sudden, the world stops spinning and you find your universe falling apart, all the stable things in your life flying off in all directions. Your personal gravitational force has quit functioning. What before you assumed you could hang on to for stability no longer avails itself. You are free-floating, drifting off in a sea of useless flotsam.
That's how John, the one we know as the Baptizer, must have felt. He's doing exactly what he believes God has called him to do -- preach repentance to prince and pauper alike and baptize all willing to repent. Then one day he preaches repentance to the king, happens to be a semi-king named Herod. Tells Herod that he was wrong to take his brother's wife and wrong to do a whole bunch of other things. And for that he lands in prison.
Luke puts it in a classic way. "Herod added this to all the other evil things he had done: He locked John up in prison." (3:20)
So there John sits with nothing to do but think on his mess of a situation. As he sorts it all out, he realizes that his primary purpose in life was to be the forerunner, the announcer of the Messiah. That's what the angel said to his parents before he was born. That's why he lived in the desert all those years and put up with all that he encountered in life, including this wrongful prison sentence. Why, he was even a teetotaler, all because that's what the angel said he needed to do. He gave up a normal life as a young man to fulfill his God-given mission in life. And hadn't he passed the spotlight on to his cousin, Jesus, because he had discerned that Jesus was the Messiah, the one for whom he was to prepare the way? He, John, must step back so that Jesus could step forward into the limelight.
If that is indeed the case, that his role has been simply to prepare the way for the Lord, then all this -- even prison -- is worth it. But left with only his own thoughts to keep him company, John begins to wonder.
One day some of his own disciples manage to get in to see him and they share all that Jesus has been doing - the teachings, the crowds, the miracles. So John sends two of these friends of his to ask Jesus, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"
John just wants to make sure. Of all his responsibilities, by far the most significant was to announce to the world that the Messiah had come. Whatever else happens -- whether he is freed, languishes in prison, or is killed -- as long as he has achieved this most important responsibility, then his life has been worth everything he has been through or is going to go through.
There is only one person who can give him the answer: Jesus himself. He trusts Jesus -- one, because deep down inside he still believes Jesus is the Messiah, and, two, because Jesus is, after all, his cousin. And if by some chance, Jesus is not the Messiah, as John had thought, his cousin will surely not let him down.
Self-doubts are very much a part of every life. And they are particularly to be expected when life turns sour, when the unexpected arises, when our dreams morph into nightmares. Left to our own devises with no external clarification, these internal wrestlings can turn into painful, deadening depression.
What dispels self-doubt is a sense that what we have been or are going through has some higher purpose, especially if that higher purpose is connected with some mission we have already had in life or something new to which we can aspire. John senses that the only person who can clarify these inner wranglings is Jesus himself. Even if the answer he gets is the worst-case scenario (as in, John was totally wrong about Jesus), an awful answer is better than no answer at all.
So John turns to the only one he knows who can answer his own doubts and the only one he knows who will be honest with him, no matter how hard the truth is: Jesus. Even in this darkest hour, John reaches deep inside and finds a whisper of faith to hang on to - and in that whisper, hope is born anew.
Monday, October 26, 2009
The World Responds
Luke 7:16-17
We live in an instant world where someone in Singapore comments on something – anything – and someone else in Nigeria or Niagara Falls has a response in just seconds. This morning I posted a message on Facebook and thirty seconds later, a friend in Argentina had already responded. Amazing.
Two thousand years ago, news also traveled “fast”. But it was all word of mouth and so distance was a bit limiting. We sometimes mistakenly think that within a generation of Jesus’ death and resurrection, the news of his life and mission had spread throughout the known world. This is simply not true. It had certainly spread to the major cities in the Roman Empire and even to population centers beyond. But even now 20 centuries later and with all our modern technology, the news of Jesus still has not penetrated to every remote corner of the planet.
And yet, within the technological confines of First Century Palestine – meaning word-of-mouth and on foot – news of what Jesus did spread rapid-fire, “viral” as we moderns say. Take as case in point the story of Jesus raising to life the only son of a widow in Nain.
Luke writes that those who observed the event were “all filled with awe and praised God.” The “awe” part is not surprising in the least. Visit your local shopping mall this afternoon, see a young man drop over dead – say he’s shot in the heart and head so that you really know he is dead even if you aren’t able to check his pulse. Then all of a sudden someone else walks up and tells the man to live and, presto, the guy with a hole in his heart and head is healed – he stops bleeding, starts breathing again, walks away and talks a blue streak as if nothing ever happened.
The crowd in the mall would go ballistic just as the crowd at the gate in Nain did on that day Jesus brought the widow’s son back to life. “Awe” would be an understatement in either setting.
What about the part of praising God? Not surprising either. First, everyone that was present was likely Jewish, thus believers in Abraham’s God. Even any Roman soldiers present would have been religious enough in their paganism that they would have willingly acclaimed a local god (which happened to be Yahweh), just as the Centurion did at the foot of Jesus’ cross. That would be the case for many modern observers as well, even the majority of those who claim to be nonreligious. No brainer there.
The people turned their attention from the brought-back-to-life son to God and finally to the miracle worker himself, Jesus. They called him a great prophet, a safe bet in a religiously devout land like Galilee. And they recognized in this prophet’s miracle-working activity a sign that God was present to “help His people.”
People talk about anything exciting. Whether it is via the primitive technology (word-of-mouth and on-foot) of the First Century or email, Facebook, Twitter, texting, cell phones or a zillion other devices of the 21st Century, word gets out everywhere. In that day and age the news got as far as Judea to the south and “the surrounding country.” It might have taken longer back then, but noteworthy (and not so worthy) news gets out.
Beyond mere observation of what took place, what is the point of Luke’s recording this information? The gospel writer was showing how news of Jesus’ actions was spreading far and wide. I think about this and also note that actions do speak louder – and faster – than words. Long before people knew what Jesus stood for they knew what he had done. And in fact they often could point to nothing about the truth of Jesus except that he had come to bless – to do good. For people then and now that is a very good place to start in revealing the truth about Jesus. He came to bring life.
We live in an instant world where someone in Singapore comments on something – anything – and someone else in Nigeria or Niagara Falls has a response in just seconds. This morning I posted a message on Facebook and thirty seconds later, a friend in Argentina had already responded. Amazing.
Two thousand years ago, news also traveled “fast”. But it was all word of mouth and so distance was a bit limiting. We sometimes mistakenly think that within a generation of Jesus’ death and resurrection, the news of his life and mission had spread throughout the known world. This is simply not true. It had certainly spread to the major cities in the Roman Empire and even to population centers beyond. But even now 20 centuries later and with all our modern technology, the news of Jesus still has not penetrated to every remote corner of the planet.
And yet, within the technological confines of First Century Palestine – meaning word-of-mouth and on foot – news of what Jesus did spread rapid-fire, “viral” as we moderns say. Take as case in point the story of Jesus raising to life the only son of a widow in Nain.
Luke writes that those who observed the event were “all filled with awe and praised God.” The “awe” part is not surprising in the least. Visit your local shopping mall this afternoon, see a young man drop over dead – say he’s shot in the heart and head so that you really know he is dead even if you aren’t able to check his pulse. Then all of a sudden someone else walks up and tells the man to live and, presto, the guy with a hole in his heart and head is healed – he stops bleeding, starts breathing again, walks away and talks a blue streak as if nothing ever happened.
The crowd in the mall would go ballistic just as the crowd at the gate in Nain did on that day Jesus brought the widow’s son back to life. “Awe” would be an understatement in either setting.
What about the part of praising God? Not surprising either. First, everyone that was present was likely Jewish, thus believers in Abraham’s God. Even any Roman soldiers present would have been religious enough in their paganism that they would have willingly acclaimed a local god (which happened to be Yahweh), just as the Centurion did at the foot of Jesus’ cross. That would be the case for many modern observers as well, even the majority of those who claim to be nonreligious. No brainer there.
The people turned their attention from the brought-back-to-life son to God and finally to the miracle worker himself, Jesus. They called him a great prophet, a safe bet in a religiously devout land like Galilee. And they recognized in this prophet’s miracle-working activity a sign that God was present to “help His people.”
People talk about anything exciting. Whether it is via the primitive technology (word-of-mouth and on-foot) of the First Century or email, Facebook, Twitter, texting, cell phones or a zillion other devices of the 21st Century, word gets out everywhere. In that day and age the news got as far as Judea to the south and “the surrounding country.” It might have taken longer back then, but noteworthy (and not so worthy) news gets out.
Beyond mere observation of what took place, what is the point of Luke’s recording this information? The gospel writer was showing how news of Jesus’ actions was spreading far and wide. I think about this and also note that actions do speak louder – and faster – than words. Long before people knew what Jesus stood for they knew what he had done. And in fact they often could point to nothing about the truth of Jesus except that he had come to bless – to do good. For people then and now that is a very good place to start in revealing the truth about Jesus. He came to bring life.
Monday, October 19, 2009
His Mother’s Son
Luke 7:11-15
You wonder why specific stories, of all the stories that must have happened, make it into the Bible. John’s gospel implies that a whole lot more could have been written about what Jesus said and did. So when I look at a particular story, I like to ask, “Why this one?”
These are not stories just for entertainment. These are teaching stories, stories to tell us something specific about God and God’s messenger/son, Jesus, and to call us to responsive action.
No controversy with feisty adversaries or confrontations with conflicted disciples here. No impeding cultural or sin problems with the “helpee”. In fact, the “helpee” is dead. Literally and completely. No whys or wherefores. No previous connections with Jesus, as Lazarus had.
Just a dead son and his mother, a widow, from a nondescript town called Nain not far from nondescript Nazareth where Jesus grew up.
Study Bibles can get in the way. Personally I don’t like them because I tend to read into the Bible text what someone else is thinking (kind of like what you are tempted to do by what I write here ). So I note in my own non-study Bible the reference to stories in I Kings 17 and II Kings 4. In these Old Testament passages, Elijah and Elisha raise to life the dead sons of widows. My Bible also references Mark 5 where Jesus raises Jairus’ daughter back to life and John 11 where Lazarus is resurrected.
So I am distracted for a moment. What do all these other stories have to do with this one? I can think of nothing other than they all have to do with offspring or siblings being brought back to life. Then I think that maybe this story stands on its own. None of the other gospels mention it. It happens shortly after the Centurion’s servant is healed and before John’s disciples come to Jesus with a question from the imprisoned and discouraged John. But this story comes on its own.
Right here in this little hamlet and now in this funeral procession, Jesus bumps into this grieving widow. I am struck by the scene. They are at the narrow and crowded town gate. Jesus, accompanied by a large crowd, is going in. The widow, also accompanied by a large crowd, is going out. I understand the crowd scene – I have been in many an Asian intersection myself. Everyone is moving ahead with his or her own agenda and not even noticing those coming in the opposite direction.
For Jesus, crowds are nothing new. But at this moment, as these two groups flow through each other just outside the gate, Jesus meets the woman and the stretcher carrying her dead son. He has not been dead long – in such primitive settings, the dead were buried right away – but he is definitely dead. And the woman, as any mother with an only son would do, is grieving. She has not just lost a relationship, she has lost her provider and livelihood, her identity in society. She is now economically and socially destitute.
I wonder how many times Jesus passed by a funeral procession. These days you rarely see them, it seems. But in those days, death was common and in-your-face. This particular procession struck at the heart of Jesus. He did not raise back to life every dead person he met, but something was unique here. He was, after all, his Father’s only son.
God, the Bible says, has a special love for widows, orphans and aliens – the displaced and misfit people in our world. And no one was more displaced in those days than a widow whose only son was dead.
In this moment, Jesus first comforts the woman – “Don’t cry” – then commands the dead son to get up. The first order is a kind, gentle one. Jesus is not put off by her crying – he is deeply touched by it and is announcing to her that her tears, though understandable, are no longer needed. The second order is also a kind, gentle one. He doesn’t need to shout to be heard by the dead. He simply speaks and the man comes back to life.
Two things of note then happen. First, as soon as the son returns to life he sits up and starts talking. He is back all the way, right where he left off. Second, Jesus makes the point of giving him back to his mother. He has returned this son to life, simply because his mother still needs him. And this point is not lost on the observers, nor, I dare say, the son himself. He is resurrected for a purpose not of his own.
You wonder why specific stories, of all the stories that must have happened, make it into the Bible. John’s gospel implies that a whole lot more could have been written about what Jesus said and did. So when I look at a particular story, I like to ask, “Why this one?”
These are not stories just for entertainment. These are teaching stories, stories to tell us something specific about God and God’s messenger/son, Jesus, and to call us to responsive action.
No controversy with feisty adversaries or confrontations with conflicted disciples here. No impeding cultural or sin problems with the “helpee”. In fact, the “helpee” is dead. Literally and completely. No whys or wherefores. No previous connections with Jesus, as Lazarus had.
Just a dead son and his mother, a widow, from a nondescript town called Nain not far from nondescript Nazareth where Jesus grew up.
Study Bibles can get in the way. Personally I don’t like them because I tend to read into the Bible text what someone else is thinking (kind of like what you are tempted to do by what I write here ). So I note in my own non-study Bible the reference to stories in I Kings 17 and II Kings 4. In these Old Testament passages, Elijah and Elisha raise to life the dead sons of widows. My Bible also references Mark 5 where Jesus raises Jairus’ daughter back to life and John 11 where Lazarus is resurrected.
So I am distracted for a moment. What do all these other stories have to do with this one? I can think of nothing other than they all have to do with offspring or siblings being brought back to life. Then I think that maybe this story stands on its own. None of the other gospels mention it. It happens shortly after the Centurion’s servant is healed and before John’s disciples come to Jesus with a question from the imprisoned and discouraged John. But this story comes on its own.
Right here in this little hamlet and now in this funeral procession, Jesus bumps into this grieving widow. I am struck by the scene. They are at the narrow and crowded town gate. Jesus, accompanied by a large crowd, is going in. The widow, also accompanied by a large crowd, is going out. I understand the crowd scene – I have been in many an Asian intersection myself. Everyone is moving ahead with his or her own agenda and not even noticing those coming in the opposite direction.
For Jesus, crowds are nothing new. But at this moment, as these two groups flow through each other just outside the gate, Jesus meets the woman and the stretcher carrying her dead son. He has not been dead long – in such primitive settings, the dead were buried right away – but he is definitely dead. And the woman, as any mother with an only son would do, is grieving. She has not just lost a relationship, she has lost her provider and livelihood, her identity in society. She is now economically and socially destitute.
I wonder how many times Jesus passed by a funeral procession. These days you rarely see them, it seems. But in those days, death was common and in-your-face. This particular procession struck at the heart of Jesus. He did not raise back to life every dead person he met, but something was unique here. He was, after all, his Father’s only son.
God, the Bible says, has a special love for widows, orphans and aliens – the displaced and misfit people in our world. And no one was more displaced in those days than a widow whose only son was dead.
In this moment, Jesus first comforts the woman – “Don’t cry” – then commands the dead son to get up. The first order is a kind, gentle one. Jesus is not put off by her crying – he is deeply touched by it and is announcing to her that her tears, though understandable, are no longer needed. The second order is also a kind, gentle one. He doesn’t need to shout to be heard by the dead. He simply speaks and the man comes back to life.
Two things of note then happen. First, as soon as the son returns to life he sits up and starts talking. He is back all the way, right where he left off. Second, Jesus makes the point of giving him back to his mother. He has returned this son to life, simply because his mother still needs him. And this point is not lost on the observers, nor, I dare say, the son himself. He is resurrected for a purpose not of his own.
Monday, October 12, 2009
A Man of Faith
Luke 7:1-10
Can a Roman soldier, who in order to hold that post, had to worship the image of Caesar, can this man actually be called a man of faith? Here is this pagan Roman Centurion, the one I referred to last time as a man of peace. He is sending word to Jesus through the town’s Jewish leaders that his servant is sick and on the verge of death. When Jesus nears his house, he sends other friends to tell Jesus not to bother to come to his house.
The Centurion is not being rude to Jesus, refusing to host this rabbi at his house. Rather he is being polite, not wanting to bother this great teacher, for he senses that Jesus is a man of unusual authority who does not need to come on location to command the sickness to leave his servant. And he may also sense, though the text does not say it, that the rabbi may not wish to defile himself by entering a pagan’s house. If so, what is in evidence is cultural politeness rather than overt humility, though that cultural deference is a true form of humility.
Jesus immediately recognizes in the Centurion a man of outstanding faith. The Centurion is a commanding officer. He understands what it is to order that things be done without having to go and do it himself. So it is not surprising that the Centurion would think in such ordering terms.
But it is very surprising – and rarely found even in circles known for faith – that this pagan should think that Jesus could order death and disease the same way he orders around his human soldiers and local citizens. The Roman recognizes in Jesus a man of great authority over the unseen realms in ways that he himself has authority over people. The Roman is using his own cultural context (the army) to envision what happens in the spiritual world. This is what is called faith – what is it that the Apostle Paul later says? – the evidence or visualization of things unseen.
So without getting near the servant, without even seeing him or his master, Jesus heals the dying man. Matthew’s parallel version of this story has Jesus talking directly to the Centurion. Or so it might seem. But it is just as likely that Matthew can be leaving out the roles of the mediators to streamline the story – as I sometimes tell my kids, “Just get to the point.”
And the point is that the Centurion is a man of amazing faith. Now such faith in and of itself would be remarkable. What puts this faith over the top is that the man of faith in question is not a follower of Yahweh, the God of the Jews and the Bible. This man is a Roman and an officer in the Imperial Army, who is sworn in pagan ritual to Caesar himself. And yet of this very man, Jesus says, “I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”
Some people make distinctions between different kinds of faith here – such as saving faith or healing faith or some other faith. But Jesus makes no such distinction. Does this make this man a believer? Well, he is a man who believes that Jesus has the power to heal his servant without getting near him. One who believes is a believer. Whatever his personal views on the God of the Jews, he recognizes in Jesus something very special that even most of the Jewish believers themselves miss altogether.
I am struck by how often we criticize or judge the faith of others. I do it myself. But Jesus evaluates faith purely on the faith itself. And in this man, Jesus sees a faith unparalleled.
What a statement Luke makes here in this passage, that Jesus was amazed at the Centurion’s faith! It is very hard for us to think of Jesus other than as this placid figure who is beyond human emotion. And yet, here is Jesus being amazed. How does Luke know Jesus was amazed? Luke wasn’t even an eyewitness. He was obviously getting the story from others – we won’t go into all that here, but it was in all likelihood a diversity of sources. And yet, what came through all those sources to Luke was that Jesus was to eyewitnesses noticeably amazed by this Centurion’s faith.
This faith was amazing because the Roman did not need some kind of physical connection between the healer and the sick person. The faith was also amazing because he recognized in this itinerant rabbi known as Jesus a man of great authority, authority even over disease and death. This faith was furthermore amazing because this man of faith was not a Jewish believer.
We make all kinds of distinctions about who can have faith. In the end, the one who can have faith is the one who acts upon the faith they do have.
Can a Roman soldier, who in order to hold that post, had to worship the image of Caesar, can this man actually be called a man of faith? Here is this pagan Roman Centurion, the one I referred to last time as a man of peace. He is sending word to Jesus through the town’s Jewish leaders that his servant is sick and on the verge of death. When Jesus nears his house, he sends other friends to tell Jesus not to bother to come to his house.
The Centurion is not being rude to Jesus, refusing to host this rabbi at his house. Rather he is being polite, not wanting to bother this great teacher, for he senses that Jesus is a man of unusual authority who does not need to come on location to command the sickness to leave his servant. And he may also sense, though the text does not say it, that the rabbi may not wish to defile himself by entering a pagan’s house. If so, what is in evidence is cultural politeness rather than overt humility, though that cultural deference is a true form of humility.
Jesus immediately recognizes in the Centurion a man of outstanding faith. The Centurion is a commanding officer. He understands what it is to order that things be done without having to go and do it himself. So it is not surprising that the Centurion would think in such ordering terms.
But it is very surprising – and rarely found even in circles known for faith – that this pagan should think that Jesus could order death and disease the same way he orders around his human soldiers and local citizens. The Roman recognizes in Jesus a man of great authority over the unseen realms in ways that he himself has authority over people. The Roman is using his own cultural context (the army) to envision what happens in the spiritual world. This is what is called faith – what is it that the Apostle Paul later says? – the evidence or visualization of things unseen.
So without getting near the servant, without even seeing him or his master, Jesus heals the dying man. Matthew’s parallel version of this story has Jesus talking directly to the Centurion. Or so it might seem. But it is just as likely that Matthew can be leaving out the roles of the mediators to streamline the story – as I sometimes tell my kids, “Just get to the point.”
And the point is that the Centurion is a man of amazing faith. Now such faith in and of itself would be remarkable. What puts this faith over the top is that the man of faith in question is not a follower of Yahweh, the God of the Jews and the Bible. This man is a Roman and an officer in the Imperial Army, who is sworn in pagan ritual to Caesar himself. And yet of this very man, Jesus says, “I have not found such great faith even in Israel.”
Some people make distinctions between different kinds of faith here – such as saving faith or healing faith or some other faith. But Jesus makes no such distinction. Does this make this man a believer? Well, he is a man who believes that Jesus has the power to heal his servant without getting near him. One who believes is a believer. Whatever his personal views on the God of the Jews, he recognizes in Jesus something very special that even most of the Jewish believers themselves miss altogether.
I am struck by how often we criticize or judge the faith of others. I do it myself. But Jesus evaluates faith purely on the faith itself. And in this man, Jesus sees a faith unparalleled.
What a statement Luke makes here in this passage, that Jesus was amazed at the Centurion’s faith! It is very hard for us to think of Jesus other than as this placid figure who is beyond human emotion. And yet, here is Jesus being amazed. How does Luke know Jesus was amazed? Luke wasn’t even an eyewitness. He was obviously getting the story from others – we won’t go into all that here, but it was in all likelihood a diversity of sources. And yet, what came through all those sources to Luke was that Jesus was to eyewitnesses noticeably amazed by this Centurion’s faith.
This faith was amazing because the Roman did not need some kind of physical connection between the healer and the sick person. The faith was also amazing because he recognized in this itinerant rabbi known as Jesus a man of great authority, authority even over disease and death. This faith was furthermore amazing because this man of faith was not a Jewish believer.
We make all kinds of distinctions about who can have faith. In the end, the one who can have faith is the one who acts upon the faith they do have.
Monday, October 5, 2009
A Man of Peace
Luke 7:1-10
Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus talks about finding a person of peace, someone who will assist in the work of the Good News, whether or not he or she actually is a believer. In the story that follows the conclusion of the “Sermon on the Level Place”, we find just such a person.
Jesus walks from the countryside into Capernaum, this city on the Lake of Galilee that is becoming his base. Capernaum is also a base for the Roman Army and a certain Centurion (a captain of one hundred Roman soldiers). Luke never gives us the name of this man and, regardless of the speculations of novelists and Hollywood filmmakers, we probably never meet up with him again in the New Testament.
The Centurion is a valued civic figure among the Jewish leaders in Capernaum, a surprising thing given the animosity between the Jews and their captors. This particular Roman official is unusual in that he has worked hard to bridge the divide between the Roman army and the restless natives.
The story is that the Centurion’s servant is sick, on the verge of death. Even what we think of today as simple fevers could turn deadly in that ancient world of proto-medical care. Sickness and death were far too common.
The Centurion was particularly fond of this servant. Sometimes we make too big a distinction between slavery in the ancient world and more modern slavery as found in the USA in earlier days. Fact is, the ancient world was no more humane than our modern, more enlightened world has been, and generally even less so. There may be forms of slavery in human history that can be considered more civilized than others, but human bondage, whatever form it takes, is a fruit of the Curse. Even so, the Centurion really did care for this servant and did not want to lose him.
What is even more striking in this unusual story is how warm the Jewish leaders were toward the Centurion. Roman soldiers were as despised in Galilee as any conquerors are anywhere and time in human history. Given the religious devotion of the Jews to Yahweh and the impersonal cruelty of the invading army, the normal tension between the two groups is not surprising.
But in this specific case, all that mutual hatred is far from evident. In fact, the Jewish leaders who come to Jesus speak ever so fondly of this Centurion. “This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.” Here was a man both magnanimous and kindhearted. There were some syncretistic tendencies among the Galilean Jewish leaders of the day (witness the Herodian family who ruled Galilee and the sect known as the Saducees). But these tendencies cannot account for the warm and strong relationship between this Centurion and these synagogue leaders.
Was the Centurion a God-fearer, as Luke speaks of his second book, The Acts of the Apostles? Not necessarily. While this Roman may not have come to believe in the God of Israel himself, he certainly had a respect for the people over whom he ruled as well as their faith. So much so that he was not afraid to come directly to Jesus, or at least send his Jewish friends to Jesus with a request for Jesus to heal this dying servant.
In this Centurion, we see two highly desirable qualities. He was both a man of peace and a man of faith. We’ll talk more of the faith aspect next time. For now, it is important to see the significance in this man of peace.
In our very religiously and politically polarized society, we should note how quickly Jesus recognizes something of value in those whom others around him deemed to be enemies. Jesus immediately notes that the Centurion, far from being the enemy, is a man of peace – a man who offers a bridge, a connection with those who follow Yahweh, and ultimately a bridge with Jesus, the Jews’ Messiah, himself.
Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus talks about finding a person of peace, someone who will assist in the work of the Good News, whether or not he or she actually is a believer. In the story that follows the conclusion of the “Sermon on the Level Place”, we find just such a person.
Jesus walks from the countryside into Capernaum, this city on the Lake of Galilee that is becoming his base. Capernaum is also a base for the Roman Army and a certain Centurion (a captain of one hundred Roman soldiers). Luke never gives us the name of this man and, regardless of the speculations of novelists and Hollywood filmmakers, we probably never meet up with him again in the New Testament.
The Centurion is a valued civic figure among the Jewish leaders in Capernaum, a surprising thing given the animosity between the Jews and their captors. This particular Roman official is unusual in that he has worked hard to bridge the divide between the Roman army and the restless natives.
The story is that the Centurion’s servant is sick, on the verge of death. Even what we think of today as simple fevers could turn deadly in that ancient world of proto-medical care. Sickness and death were far too common.
The Centurion was particularly fond of this servant. Sometimes we make too big a distinction between slavery in the ancient world and more modern slavery as found in the USA in earlier days. Fact is, the ancient world was no more humane than our modern, more enlightened world has been, and generally even less so. There may be forms of slavery in human history that can be considered more civilized than others, but human bondage, whatever form it takes, is a fruit of the Curse. Even so, the Centurion really did care for this servant and did not want to lose him.
What is even more striking in this unusual story is how warm the Jewish leaders were toward the Centurion. Roman soldiers were as despised in Galilee as any conquerors are anywhere and time in human history. Given the religious devotion of the Jews to Yahweh and the impersonal cruelty of the invading army, the normal tension between the two groups is not surprising.
But in this specific case, all that mutual hatred is far from evident. In fact, the Jewish leaders who come to Jesus speak ever so fondly of this Centurion. “This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.” Here was a man both magnanimous and kindhearted. There were some syncretistic tendencies among the Galilean Jewish leaders of the day (witness the Herodian family who ruled Galilee and the sect known as the Saducees). But these tendencies cannot account for the warm and strong relationship between this Centurion and these synagogue leaders.
Was the Centurion a God-fearer, as Luke speaks of his second book, The Acts of the Apostles? Not necessarily. While this Roman may not have come to believe in the God of Israel himself, he certainly had a respect for the people over whom he ruled as well as their faith. So much so that he was not afraid to come directly to Jesus, or at least send his Jewish friends to Jesus with a request for Jesus to heal this dying servant.
In this Centurion, we see two highly desirable qualities. He was both a man of peace and a man of faith. We’ll talk more of the faith aspect next time. For now, it is important to see the significance in this man of peace.
In our very religiously and politically polarized society, we should note how quickly Jesus recognizes something of value in those whom others around him deemed to be enemies. Jesus immediately notes that the Centurion, far from being the enemy, is a man of peace – a man who offers a bridge, a connection with those who follow Yahweh, and ultimately a bridge with Jesus, the Jews’ Messiah, himself.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Listening Plus
Luke 6:46-49
“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord” and do not do what I say?” This question comes up with telling frequency in Jesus’ teachings.
Become famous or rich or important in society and everyone will call you their friend. That is a trait among humans as old as the human race. Jesus knows that there are those who follow him with their lips and not with their actions. And so, he says, he will show his listeners what those people are like. Actually he makes this statement in the affirmative: he will first explain what those are like who DO follow him with their lips AND their actions.
This parable is an old and familiar one to all of us who grew up in Sunday School and learned the song “The wise man built his house upon a rock … and the rains came tumbling down.” It is a great song for kids, full of action and word pictures that bring out the kidness in all of us. And a catchy tune that sticks with us all the week through.
Even little kids who know nothing of the intricate workings of engineering know the difference between an endurable construction project and a sand castle or a lego tower that goes crash when you smash it. And who better to test such engineering feats than a kid?
In Luke’s rendering of this parable, the words “wise” and “foolish” do not appear as it does in Matthew’s. Jesus says simply enough that the one who hears and follows through responsively is like a man who, when building a house, digs down deep and lays a foundation on rock. When the floods inevitably come, the floodwaters hit the house hard, but the house is unshaken and stands firm because “it was well built.”
In contrast, Jesus then goes on to say, the one who hears his words and does not put them into practice is like someone who builds a house directly on the ground without any foundation (in this setting, neither “rock” nor “sand” are used, only “foundation”). This house doesn’t survive the floods, collapsing immediately.
Jesus isn’t focusing on the type of house built – earthen or wooden or rock. The emphasis is the house having a proper foundation. Not so much whether it is built on rock or sand, but whether the house has something that anchors it to the ground on which it sits.
A mighty city such as New York can build huge skyscrapers because the ground at “Ground Zero” is deep bedrock, something true of much of the area. Bedrock deep enough to support one of the world’s largest collections of super-structures.
Even where there is sand, however, such as at the Jersey shore only a short drive from those skyscrapers, you can build a house that will last many an Atlantic hurricane as long as you drive pilings (or foundation materials) deep into the sand. A major storm might damage the shingles or shutters, even some of the siding and framing, but the house itself will not collapse if it has a proper foundation. Ever go to the shore and push your feet into the watery sand until it sucks your legs in tight? You are unmovable with your “foundation” anchored in simple sand.
For people, Jesus says, that “proper foundation” for life is the dynamic duo of hearing his words and putting them into action. We never really know or understand something unless we do something with it after we hear or read it. This is especially the case when Jesus calls us to obey. It is not enough, he warns, to say we know him or that we call him “Lord” or master or some such word of deference. We must listen to him and then follow through with what he has said.
To tie this in with what Jesus has been teaching in the verses just prior, we are not good just because we listen to Jesus or even applaud what he has to say. We are good because we do what Jesus says.
“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord” and do not do what I say?” This question comes up with telling frequency in Jesus’ teachings.
Become famous or rich or important in society and everyone will call you their friend. That is a trait among humans as old as the human race. Jesus knows that there are those who follow him with their lips and not with their actions. And so, he says, he will show his listeners what those people are like. Actually he makes this statement in the affirmative: he will first explain what those are like who DO follow him with their lips AND their actions.
This parable is an old and familiar one to all of us who grew up in Sunday School and learned the song “The wise man built his house upon a rock … and the rains came tumbling down.” It is a great song for kids, full of action and word pictures that bring out the kidness in all of us. And a catchy tune that sticks with us all the week through.
Even little kids who know nothing of the intricate workings of engineering know the difference between an endurable construction project and a sand castle or a lego tower that goes crash when you smash it. And who better to test such engineering feats than a kid?
In Luke’s rendering of this parable, the words “wise” and “foolish” do not appear as it does in Matthew’s. Jesus says simply enough that the one who hears and follows through responsively is like a man who, when building a house, digs down deep and lays a foundation on rock. When the floods inevitably come, the floodwaters hit the house hard, but the house is unshaken and stands firm because “it was well built.”
In contrast, Jesus then goes on to say, the one who hears his words and does not put them into practice is like someone who builds a house directly on the ground without any foundation (in this setting, neither “rock” nor “sand” are used, only “foundation”). This house doesn’t survive the floods, collapsing immediately.
Jesus isn’t focusing on the type of house built – earthen or wooden or rock. The emphasis is the house having a proper foundation. Not so much whether it is built on rock or sand, but whether the house has something that anchors it to the ground on which it sits.
A mighty city such as New York can build huge skyscrapers because the ground at “Ground Zero” is deep bedrock, something true of much of the area. Bedrock deep enough to support one of the world’s largest collections of super-structures.
Even where there is sand, however, such as at the Jersey shore only a short drive from those skyscrapers, you can build a house that will last many an Atlantic hurricane as long as you drive pilings (or foundation materials) deep into the sand. A major storm might damage the shingles or shutters, even some of the siding and framing, but the house itself will not collapse if it has a proper foundation. Ever go to the shore and push your feet into the watery sand until it sucks your legs in tight? You are unmovable with your “foundation” anchored in simple sand.
For people, Jesus says, that “proper foundation” for life is the dynamic duo of hearing his words and putting them into action. We never really know or understand something unless we do something with it after we hear or read it. This is especially the case when Jesus calls us to obey. It is not enough, he warns, to say we know him or that we call him “Lord” or master or some such word of deference. We must listen to him and then follow through with what he has said.
To tie this in with what Jesus has been teaching in the verses just prior, we are not good just because we listen to Jesus or even applaud what he has to say. We are good because we do what Jesus says.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Fruit-bearing and Recognition
Luke 6:43-45
One issue with understanding Scriptures is determining whether or how a certain text is related to what comes immediately before or immediately after. These verses are a good case in point.
Here Jesus explains, first, that good trees bear good fruit and bad trees bear bad fruit and, second, that you can identify a tree by its fruit. For the agrarian-based society to which Jesus was talking, this made perfect sense. They all knew fruit trees and they all knew which trees were which. Nowadays, it is much harder to find people who can identify trees and even fruits can be hybrids, a mix, for example, of apple and pear.
By such analogy Jesus is teaching that what comes from inside a person is what identifies said person as good or evil. Thus, good trees do not produce bad fruit and bad trees do not produce good fruit.
As soon as I read that, I am struck by the realization that I have seen very bad people do very good things and very good people do very bad things. When I was a much younger man, I remember a New Jersey senator, Harrison Williams, a man I looked up to for how he showed much compassion for the poor. And yet he got caught up in a sting operation called Abscam. Disgraced, he resigned and did time.
I’ve learned over and over again that just about everyone is a mixed bag when it comes to producing good and evil. So how does this observation settle with what Jesus is saying in this passage?
Go back to what Jesus has just been saying about judging others. Jesus, who was perfect, was very slow to judge others and when he did, he preferred mercy over judgment – otherwise we’d all be crispy critters long before now. So he has been telling his audience, who are we to judge? We, who have planks in our own eyes, should be slow to clean out the eyes of those around us.
And yet, the very next thing Jesus is saying is that people’s goodness and badness will be self-evident. Before we rush off to study what Jesus has said elsewhere on the subject, it is good to meditate on why Jesus is saying such seemingly contradictory statements in nearly the same breath.
What follows? Jesus concludes this “Sermon on the Level Place” by talking about wise and foolish builders. I start to get a picture here. Jesus is placing the focus on judging ourselves, not on judging others. This is not about playing “Santa”, “gonna to find out who’s naughty and nice.” This is all about examining ourselves. He has just said, we can’t really properly judge others, not like God who is perfect.
But we can take a good hard look at ourselves. What do we see in ourselves? Good or evil? A good tree will not produce evil fruit and a bad tree will not produce good fruit. Whatever is in the heart of a person is going to flow out in what they say and do. Or as Jesus says, “out of the overflow of the heart.”
When my heart is full of goodness, that is what is going to gush out of me without even trying. It is not a forced goodness, but a goodness that flows naturally. Like an artesian well.
Here in the shadow of the Cascades, our creeks and rivers flow year round because they have a source that is not dependent on snow melt. Winter, summer, spring or fall, the underground water sources have an abundant supply.
So, too, it is with a person full of goodness. You don’t have to try and pump it out. It gushes forth on its own. A good person will bear good fruit without even trying. The character of a person will be self-evident. No mixed signals (or fruit). No hesitations or mixed messages or ineffective attempts at righteousness. Goodness is as natural to a good person as apples are to an apple tree.
So, Jesus says, in what follows next, don’t try to put yourself forth as something you are not. If you are good, it will come out as natural as fruit on a fruit-bearing tree.
One issue with understanding Scriptures is determining whether or how a certain text is related to what comes immediately before or immediately after. These verses are a good case in point.
Here Jesus explains, first, that good trees bear good fruit and bad trees bear bad fruit and, second, that you can identify a tree by its fruit. For the agrarian-based society to which Jesus was talking, this made perfect sense. They all knew fruit trees and they all knew which trees were which. Nowadays, it is much harder to find people who can identify trees and even fruits can be hybrids, a mix, for example, of apple and pear.
By such analogy Jesus is teaching that what comes from inside a person is what identifies said person as good or evil. Thus, good trees do not produce bad fruit and bad trees do not produce good fruit.
As soon as I read that, I am struck by the realization that I have seen very bad people do very good things and very good people do very bad things. When I was a much younger man, I remember a New Jersey senator, Harrison Williams, a man I looked up to for how he showed much compassion for the poor. And yet he got caught up in a sting operation called Abscam. Disgraced, he resigned and did time.
I’ve learned over and over again that just about everyone is a mixed bag when it comes to producing good and evil. So how does this observation settle with what Jesus is saying in this passage?
Go back to what Jesus has just been saying about judging others. Jesus, who was perfect, was very slow to judge others and when he did, he preferred mercy over judgment – otherwise we’d all be crispy critters long before now. So he has been telling his audience, who are we to judge? We, who have planks in our own eyes, should be slow to clean out the eyes of those around us.
And yet, the very next thing Jesus is saying is that people’s goodness and badness will be self-evident. Before we rush off to study what Jesus has said elsewhere on the subject, it is good to meditate on why Jesus is saying such seemingly contradictory statements in nearly the same breath.
What follows? Jesus concludes this “Sermon on the Level Place” by talking about wise and foolish builders. I start to get a picture here. Jesus is placing the focus on judging ourselves, not on judging others. This is not about playing “Santa”, “gonna to find out who’s naughty and nice.” This is all about examining ourselves. He has just said, we can’t really properly judge others, not like God who is perfect.
But we can take a good hard look at ourselves. What do we see in ourselves? Good or evil? A good tree will not produce evil fruit and a bad tree will not produce good fruit. Whatever is in the heart of a person is going to flow out in what they say and do. Or as Jesus says, “out of the overflow of the heart.”
When my heart is full of goodness, that is what is going to gush out of me without even trying. It is not a forced goodness, but a goodness that flows naturally. Like an artesian well.
Here in the shadow of the Cascades, our creeks and rivers flow year round because they have a source that is not dependent on snow melt. Winter, summer, spring or fall, the underground water sources have an abundant supply.
So, too, it is with a person full of goodness. You don’t have to try and pump it out. It gushes forth on its own. A good person will bear good fruit without even trying. The character of a person will be self-evident. No mixed signals (or fruit). No hesitations or mixed messages or ineffective attempts at righteousness. Goodness is as natural to a good person as apples are to an apple tree.
So, Jesus says, in what follows next, don’t try to put yourself forth as something you are not. If you are good, it will come out as natural as fruit on a fruit-bearing tree.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Judging Others – Part IV
Luke 6:41-42
One day (recorded elsewhere) some people drag this woman to Jesus. She’s been caught in an act of adultery with some man. (Never mind the obvious that he wasn’t dragged to Jesus along with her.) The woman’s accusers are bound to obey the law of Moses and stone her to death for her sin. Jesus doesn’t discredit Moses’ law. He doesn’t even disagree with their verdict of guilty. He says simply, “Whichever of you her accusers is without sin, cast the first stone.” The men all quietly leave and Jesus says to the woman, “I don’t condemn you either. Go and stop sinning.”
Here in Luke, Jesus says that before we start pointing fingers at the sins of others, we better take care of our own sins. He isn’t saying that once we clean up our own house, we can start yelling at other people to clean up theirs.
What happens when we start dealing with our own problems is we start understanding the role of mercy and grace in bringing healing and wholeness to our lives.
There’s an old proverb about the sun, the wind and a man with an overcoat. The sun and the wind are in a challenge match as to who can get the man to take off his coat. The wind blows and blows and the harder and longer he blows, the tighter the man wraps the coat around himself. Then the sun takes over, just beaming down quiet warmth. Pretty quickly, the man takes off the coat.
Jesus doesn’t even get to the point in this passage of explaining how to straighten up your brother. He simply says that before you start doing so, take care of your own problems first.
All this talk about specks and planks in eyes that Jesus uses to illustrate his point means that it is hard to solve your brother’s problem when you’ve got stuff in your own life. If I have a bit of dust get in my eye, I don’t want someone who has a pole sticking out of his to come clean out my dust.
What has Jesus been telling us about judging others?
1. Don’t judge, pure and simple.
2. Be as merciful with others as our Father in Heaven is merciful with us.
3. As we give (mercy), so will we be given (mercy) in return.
4. Don’t rush to judgment.
5. You can’t lead others if you can’t see the way yourself.
6. We don’t judge; we lead simply by pointing the way.
7. Take care of your own messes before you straighten out everyone else’s.
I am struck by this truth. Jesus, who was perfect, was very slow to judge others. When he did speak out, he did so in a very forthright way because his vision was clear. And he, like his Father in Heaven, preferred mercy over judgment.
I think I’ll take his cue. I definitely want God’s mercy and not His judgment.
One day (recorded elsewhere) some people drag this woman to Jesus. She’s been caught in an act of adultery with some man. (Never mind the obvious that he wasn’t dragged to Jesus along with her.) The woman’s accusers are bound to obey the law of Moses and stone her to death for her sin. Jesus doesn’t discredit Moses’ law. He doesn’t even disagree with their verdict of guilty. He says simply, “Whichever of you her accusers is without sin, cast the first stone.” The men all quietly leave and Jesus says to the woman, “I don’t condemn you either. Go and stop sinning.”
Here in Luke, Jesus says that before we start pointing fingers at the sins of others, we better take care of our own sins. He isn’t saying that once we clean up our own house, we can start yelling at other people to clean up theirs.
What happens when we start dealing with our own problems is we start understanding the role of mercy and grace in bringing healing and wholeness to our lives.
There’s an old proverb about the sun, the wind and a man with an overcoat. The sun and the wind are in a challenge match as to who can get the man to take off his coat. The wind blows and blows and the harder and longer he blows, the tighter the man wraps the coat around himself. Then the sun takes over, just beaming down quiet warmth. Pretty quickly, the man takes off the coat.
Jesus doesn’t even get to the point in this passage of explaining how to straighten up your brother. He simply says that before you start doing so, take care of your own problems first.
All this talk about specks and planks in eyes that Jesus uses to illustrate his point means that it is hard to solve your brother’s problem when you’ve got stuff in your own life. If I have a bit of dust get in my eye, I don’t want someone who has a pole sticking out of his to come clean out my dust.
What has Jesus been telling us about judging others?
1. Don’t judge, pure and simple.
2. Be as merciful with others as our Father in Heaven is merciful with us.
3. As we give (mercy), so will we be given (mercy) in return.
4. Don’t rush to judgment.
5. You can’t lead others if you can’t see the way yourself.
6. We don’t judge; we lead simply by pointing the way.
7. Take care of your own messes before you straighten out everyone else’s.
I am struck by this truth. Jesus, who was perfect, was very slow to judge others. When he did speak out, he did so in a very forthright way because his vision was clear. And he, like his Father in Heaven, preferred mercy over judgment.
I think I’ll take his cue. I definitely want God’s mercy and not His judgment.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Judging Others – Part III
Luke 6:40
Take this verse out of its context and it’s very straightforward: “A student is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher.” On its own, this sentence makes sense in a very commonsensical way.
John quotes Jesus saying something similar over in his gospel (13:16) in regards to a servant not being greater than his master or a messenger being greater than the one who sent him. That context is about Jesus setting an example he expects his disciples to follow.
But what does this verse in Luke have to do with the verses that come before and after? In Matthew’s parallel teaching on judging others (7:1-5), this verse is not to be found.
Our temptations are one of two directions. One, we just take this verse at face value and ignore its context. Let each verse be a stand-alone. Or, two, we consider whether this verse is indeed part of the original sayings of Jesus. Maybe Luke (or whoever wrote this passage) added it in, or maybe the Early Church did so many years later.
What each of these temptations – one by “literalists” and the other by those who don’t think the Bible can be taken so literally – do is to miss out on the fuller meaning of the text. It may not hurt to take it face value and it may not hurt to examine the writings of different scholars as to its source, but as with most temptations, these are easy ways out. Maybe, just maybe, this is how Jesus actually said it. Then what was he after by putting this sentence in this particular context?
The larger context (verses 37-42) is all about being careful not to judge others, first, because in the way we treat others, we will be treated; and, second, because we can’t judge others very well when we haven’t dealt properly with our own faults. In judging others, we lead them, or attempt to do so. That is why we judge people, to set them straight, to “put them on the straight and narrow.” But how can we who are blinded by our own faults see clearly enough to lead others? If we try to do just that, we will all fall into a far greater mess. It is in this context, Jesus says, that a student is not above his teacher.
In China, I directed various schools and educational programs. One time I had a wonderful history teacher at our international school who was intimidated by her high school students, all who had lived in China far longer than she had. The intimidation came from having to teach them a year of Chinese history, something any one of them knew far better than she already. But she knew something they did not – she knew historical methodology. She knew how to take facts, data and information and turn it into useful historical analysis.
So I told her she didn’t need to teach them Chinese history as much as she needed to guide them in how to formulate what they did know and then add to that body of knowledge according to the historical analysis already formulated. Which is exactly what her class did under her tutelage. By year’s end, her students had designed a whole year’s curriculum in Chinese history for high school students.
I’ve often explained to teachers that a teacher really has to be only one step ahead of his or her students. It’s easier if you are many steps ahead, but you don’t have to be. A student is someone who has something to learn from someone else, who in this case becomes the teacher.
Then Jesus explains that when a student is fully trained he or she will indeed achieve the level of his or her own teacher. Our job is not to judge others as much as show them the way and help them gain skills in how to improve. No one is perfect. If this is true, then who can teach? Our job as humans is not to cast out the sin in others, but to point everyone to the One who can. It is the Holy Spirit actually, Jesus says elsewhere, who convicts of sin. But as followers of Jesus, we can point people to Jesus and to his Word. And his Spirit will take care of the rest.
Take this verse out of its context and it’s very straightforward: “A student is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher.” On its own, this sentence makes sense in a very commonsensical way.
John quotes Jesus saying something similar over in his gospel (13:16) in regards to a servant not being greater than his master or a messenger being greater than the one who sent him. That context is about Jesus setting an example he expects his disciples to follow.
But what does this verse in Luke have to do with the verses that come before and after? In Matthew’s parallel teaching on judging others (7:1-5), this verse is not to be found.
Our temptations are one of two directions. One, we just take this verse at face value and ignore its context. Let each verse be a stand-alone. Or, two, we consider whether this verse is indeed part of the original sayings of Jesus. Maybe Luke (or whoever wrote this passage) added it in, or maybe the Early Church did so many years later.
What each of these temptations – one by “literalists” and the other by those who don’t think the Bible can be taken so literally – do is to miss out on the fuller meaning of the text. It may not hurt to take it face value and it may not hurt to examine the writings of different scholars as to its source, but as with most temptations, these are easy ways out. Maybe, just maybe, this is how Jesus actually said it. Then what was he after by putting this sentence in this particular context?
The larger context (verses 37-42) is all about being careful not to judge others, first, because in the way we treat others, we will be treated; and, second, because we can’t judge others very well when we haven’t dealt properly with our own faults. In judging others, we lead them, or attempt to do so. That is why we judge people, to set them straight, to “put them on the straight and narrow.” But how can we who are blinded by our own faults see clearly enough to lead others? If we try to do just that, we will all fall into a far greater mess. It is in this context, Jesus says, that a student is not above his teacher.
In China, I directed various schools and educational programs. One time I had a wonderful history teacher at our international school who was intimidated by her high school students, all who had lived in China far longer than she had. The intimidation came from having to teach them a year of Chinese history, something any one of them knew far better than she already. But she knew something they did not – she knew historical methodology. She knew how to take facts, data and information and turn it into useful historical analysis.
So I told her she didn’t need to teach them Chinese history as much as she needed to guide them in how to formulate what they did know and then add to that body of knowledge according to the historical analysis already formulated. Which is exactly what her class did under her tutelage. By year’s end, her students had designed a whole year’s curriculum in Chinese history for high school students.
I’ve often explained to teachers that a teacher really has to be only one step ahead of his or her students. It’s easier if you are many steps ahead, but you don’t have to be. A student is someone who has something to learn from someone else, who in this case becomes the teacher.
Then Jesus explains that when a student is fully trained he or she will indeed achieve the level of his or her own teacher. Our job is not to judge others as much as show them the way and help them gain skills in how to improve. No one is perfect. If this is true, then who can teach? Our job as humans is not to cast out the sin in others, but to point everyone to the One who can. It is the Holy Spirit actually, Jesus says elsewhere, who convicts of sin. But as followers of Jesus, we can point people to Jesus and to his Word. And his Spirit will take care of the rest.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Judging Others – Part II
Luke 6:39
Occasionally it seems as if we hit an incongruous spot in the Scriptures, as if the editors messed something up. If context didn’t matter, we wouldn’t miss a beat. We’d just highlight our favorite verses or carve them on a plaque and ignore the odd-fitting passages. Such is the case with this verse.
Right in the middle of talking about not judging others, Jesus throws in this one sentence parable. It comes in the form of questions: “Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit?” Sounds like a rhetorical question, because the answer is obvious. No. And yes. No, a blind man can’t very well lead a blind man and, yes, they are both likely to fall into a pit.
Living as we do in a more sensible world where society continues to improve pedestrian walkways and technology advances to assist the blind, it is conceivable that one blind person could lead another. But in pre-technology days and before modern sensibilities toward the disabled, there was no way one blind person could lead another without the very real danger of falling into an open pit or cistern.
So what is the point of this parable when it comes to judging others? The point becomes clearer as we hear what Jesus says a couple verses later, that we are blinded by our own faults and until we do something about those faults, we cannot possible see to help our neighbor or our brother with theirs. A person who is not dealing with his or her own faults is like a blind man and to follow him is to suffer the same fate as he.
Who are we to judge when we have faults of our own that need dealing with? The story of the woman caught in adultery comes to mind. It is in this story, found in John’s gospel, where Jesus says the famous line about he who is without sin casting the first stone (to kill her according to the dictates of the Law).
Funny how much easier it is to see someone else’s faults than our own. Which is why Jesus is so quick to caution us about jumping in to straighten out someone else when we need to be sorting out our own issues. Sin does blind us. Helen Keller was asked one time what could be worse than being blind and deaf, to which she is said to have replied, someone who can see but has no vision.
We think we can truly see ourselves and others because we have physical eyesight, but we walk around blinded by our own faults and unable to see others or ourselves objectively. So, Jesus says pure and simply, don’t rush to judge others.
Occasionally it seems as if we hit an incongruous spot in the Scriptures, as if the editors messed something up. If context didn’t matter, we wouldn’t miss a beat. We’d just highlight our favorite verses or carve them on a plaque and ignore the odd-fitting passages. Such is the case with this verse.
Right in the middle of talking about not judging others, Jesus throws in this one sentence parable. It comes in the form of questions: “Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit?” Sounds like a rhetorical question, because the answer is obvious. No. And yes. No, a blind man can’t very well lead a blind man and, yes, they are both likely to fall into a pit.
Living as we do in a more sensible world where society continues to improve pedestrian walkways and technology advances to assist the blind, it is conceivable that one blind person could lead another. But in pre-technology days and before modern sensibilities toward the disabled, there was no way one blind person could lead another without the very real danger of falling into an open pit or cistern.
So what is the point of this parable when it comes to judging others? The point becomes clearer as we hear what Jesus says a couple verses later, that we are blinded by our own faults and until we do something about those faults, we cannot possible see to help our neighbor or our brother with theirs. A person who is not dealing with his or her own faults is like a blind man and to follow him is to suffer the same fate as he.
Who are we to judge when we have faults of our own that need dealing with? The story of the woman caught in adultery comes to mind. It is in this story, found in John’s gospel, where Jesus says the famous line about he who is without sin casting the first stone (to kill her according to the dictates of the Law).
Funny how much easier it is to see someone else’s faults than our own. Which is why Jesus is so quick to caution us about jumping in to straighten out someone else when we need to be sorting out our own issues. Sin does blind us. Helen Keller was asked one time what could be worse than being blind and deaf, to which she is said to have replied, someone who can see but has no vision.
We think we can truly see ourselves and others because we have physical eyesight, but we walk around blinded by our own faults and unable to see others or ourselves objectively. So, Jesus says pure and simply, don’t rush to judge others.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Check out my newest blog
While I am taking a break from blogging this week, feel free to check out my newest blog -- "2GC@PDX". The address is http://2gcatpdx.blogspot.com/. I'll be back next week with more thoughts from Luke.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Judging Others – Part I
Luke 6:37-38
We’ve established several points in this “Sermon on the Level Place.” One, Jesus is proposing a whole new ethic for life, an ethic which is completely opposite from the ways of the world. Two, expect to be ill-treated in life, especially as (if not because of being) a follower of Jesus. Three, while Jesus says about the same thing as other great religious teachers in history in his version of the Golden Rule, he goes the extra mile in applying it. Which brings up number four: we are to love those who hate us because we are to be like our heavenly Father who is gracious and merciful to us.
It is only as we understand these concepts that we can grasp what he says next. Having explained how we are to love our enemies, he teaches us about judging others, mainly not.
Do not judge. Do not condemn. Instead, forgive. The key is what is connected to each of these. Do not judge and you will not be judged. Do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. My first reaction is, the world doesn’t act that way. But Jesus is not talking about the world’s ways. He is talking about the way God works. And it is striking what he says. As we forgive others, we will be forgiven.
Note, he is not saying here that we are to forgive others because we have already been forgiven. He’s already said we are merciful because our Father in heaven is merciful. The implication is two-fold. One, we are to be like our heavenly Father who is merciful. And we are to be merciful in the same way our Father has been merciful to us. But what he now says goes a step further. I know, you’re probably feeling like me: Can we take this a bit slower? Maybe grasp the first part in this life and then what comes next in the life after this? But Jesus keeps on going step by step.
To help us understand what he really means, he creates a verse which is plastered everywhere in our lives, often out of context. Give and it will be given to you. In fact, it will be given back to you packed in and overflowing above whatever you have measured out, in like kind. For, he says, it is with the measure that you use that it will be measured out to you. People often talk about this principle with giving financially. But Jesus is talking about how we treat others – judging, condemning, forgiving. We are to treat others as we would like to be treated (Golden Rule). For we will be treated with the same measuring cup we treat others.
We all know what it is like to treat others nicely and have them return our kindness with rudeness or worse. But this measuring process is not bilateral, meaning just between you and the person who doesn’t return the favor. It is a multilateral agreement between God, us and the rest of the world. We treat everyone well and it doesn’t matter how the world treats us back for God will more than make up for it. He may or may not avenge us with those who treat us badly, but he will shower us with so many good things it overwhelms us.
But now, aren’t we already being treated nice by God? Isn’t He already our guide for how to treat others? Isn’t it out of the mercy God has shown us that we are to be merciful to others? True, all of that.
So take it a step further. God blesses us whether we deserve it (unlikely) or not (mercy). Then we bless others whether they deserve it (unlikely) or not (mercy). As a result of how we now treat others, we are treated in kind by God. Meaning if we show others mercy, God will pour out even more mercy on us. More than we’ve received before and more than we’ve dished out to others.
It’s like one of these “pass it on” investments. God gives us mercy. We pass it on. He gives us even more. The more we pass on, the more we have to pass on. The investment grows and compounds over time. What a way to invest!
We’ve established several points in this “Sermon on the Level Place.” One, Jesus is proposing a whole new ethic for life, an ethic which is completely opposite from the ways of the world. Two, expect to be ill-treated in life, especially as (if not because of being) a follower of Jesus. Three, while Jesus says about the same thing as other great religious teachers in history in his version of the Golden Rule, he goes the extra mile in applying it. Which brings up number four: we are to love those who hate us because we are to be like our heavenly Father who is gracious and merciful to us.
It is only as we understand these concepts that we can grasp what he says next. Having explained how we are to love our enemies, he teaches us about judging others, mainly not.
Do not judge. Do not condemn. Instead, forgive. The key is what is connected to each of these. Do not judge and you will not be judged. Do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. My first reaction is, the world doesn’t act that way. But Jesus is not talking about the world’s ways. He is talking about the way God works. And it is striking what he says. As we forgive others, we will be forgiven.
Note, he is not saying here that we are to forgive others because we have already been forgiven. He’s already said we are merciful because our Father in heaven is merciful. The implication is two-fold. One, we are to be like our heavenly Father who is merciful. And we are to be merciful in the same way our Father has been merciful to us. But what he now says goes a step further. I know, you’re probably feeling like me: Can we take this a bit slower? Maybe grasp the first part in this life and then what comes next in the life after this? But Jesus keeps on going step by step.
To help us understand what he really means, he creates a verse which is plastered everywhere in our lives, often out of context. Give and it will be given to you. In fact, it will be given back to you packed in and overflowing above whatever you have measured out, in like kind. For, he says, it is with the measure that you use that it will be measured out to you. People often talk about this principle with giving financially. But Jesus is talking about how we treat others – judging, condemning, forgiving. We are to treat others as we would like to be treated (Golden Rule). For we will be treated with the same measuring cup we treat others.
We all know what it is like to treat others nicely and have them return our kindness with rudeness or worse. But this measuring process is not bilateral, meaning just between you and the person who doesn’t return the favor. It is a multilateral agreement between God, us and the rest of the world. We treat everyone well and it doesn’t matter how the world treats us back for God will more than make up for it. He may or may not avenge us with those who treat us badly, but he will shower us with so many good things it overwhelms us.
But now, aren’t we already being treated nice by God? Isn’t He already our guide for how to treat others? Isn’t it out of the mercy God has shown us that we are to be merciful to others? True, all of that.
So take it a step further. God blesses us whether we deserve it (unlikely) or not (mercy). Then we bless others whether they deserve it (unlikely) or not (mercy). As a result of how we now treat others, we are treated in kind by God. Meaning if we show others mercy, God will pour out even more mercy on us. More than we’ve received before and more than we’ve dished out to others.
It’s like one of these “pass it on” investments. God gives us mercy. We pass it on. He gives us even more. The more we pass on, the more we have to pass on. The investment grows and compounds over time. What a way to invest!
Monday, August 10, 2009
Love your Enemies – Part IV
Luke 6:32-36
In the Scriptures of Jesus’ day, what we now call the Old Testament, the mark of a devout follower of God was taking care of the poor and needy. But in this passage in Luke, Jesus declares that his followers are to go way beyond that.
They are to love their enemies. When the Mosaic code was written, outlining how special treatment was to be given to the widows, orphans and aliens or strangers, Israel was in the ascendency. The Israelites were in control of their own destiny and the aliens and strangers among them were weak and helpless.
But now, the children of Israel are under the heavy foot of Rome. The strangers in their midst are their hated enemy. And they chafe dearly at these their oppressors. So when Jesus calls them to love their enemies, it is not just the fellow villager that stole a melon from their fruit stand two decades ago and that they still don’t speak to at synagogue. It is these despised Roman conquerors that make them leave their fruit stand to carry a load of supplies for the Roman soldiers a whole blankety-blank mile.
Jesus points out that even “sinners” love those who love them. Even “sinners” do good to those who are good to them and lend to those who pay them back. Each time the word “sinners” is used in this context, it is put in quotes in the NIV, implying that Jesus is using the word with bit euphemistically. Even these so-called sinners know how to be nice to those who are nice to them.
In other words, as followers of Jesus, we are to go way beyond the social norms. In applying the “Golden Rule” Jesus has just laid out, we are to treat our enemies as we wish to be treated. So our enemy orders us to do some nasty chore, we are to love them, do good to them, give to them not expecting anything in return. We are to honor those who despise us.
Of all that Jesus says here, the “love them” is the hardest to swallow. I can find all kinds of ways to be nice to those who are not nice to me, all the while seething in anger or hatred inside. But loving someone is not just an act. It is an attitude. I can’t just DO something nice, I actually have to be motivated by something nice.
Jesus then helps us understand the “why” involved in all of this – why we are to love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for those who mistreat us. For, he says, our reward will be great. Okay, profit motive. But it is no monetary profit. The reward is relational, in being heirs of “The Most High” – God Himself. When we love our enemies, we show that we are not just followers of Jesus, we are children, sons and daughters, of our Heavenly Father.
Children, for better or worse, are like their parents. “The nut doesn’t fall far from the tree.” “Like father, like son.” “Like mother, like daughter.” Every culture has its own sayings that remind us that children tend to take on the characteristics of their parents. And, for those of us who are sons and daughters of the Most High, what is our Heavenly Father like? What do we emulate?
God, Jesus says, is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. So, he says, be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
When I look at my enemy, I say “no way.” When I look at the God who has been so merciful and gracious and loving toward me who deserves no such goodness, I say, “at your service.” I cannot help but respond in kind to how God has treated me. So Jesus calls me to love and honor my enemies because God has loved and honored me.
In the Scriptures of Jesus’ day, what we now call the Old Testament, the mark of a devout follower of God was taking care of the poor and needy. But in this passage in Luke, Jesus declares that his followers are to go way beyond that.
They are to love their enemies. When the Mosaic code was written, outlining how special treatment was to be given to the widows, orphans and aliens or strangers, Israel was in the ascendency. The Israelites were in control of their own destiny and the aliens and strangers among them were weak and helpless.
But now, the children of Israel are under the heavy foot of Rome. The strangers in their midst are their hated enemy. And they chafe dearly at these their oppressors. So when Jesus calls them to love their enemies, it is not just the fellow villager that stole a melon from their fruit stand two decades ago and that they still don’t speak to at synagogue. It is these despised Roman conquerors that make them leave their fruit stand to carry a load of supplies for the Roman soldiers a whole blankety-blank mile.
Jesus points out that even “sinners” love those who love them. Even “sinners” do good to those who are good to them and lend to those who pay them back. Each time the word “sinners” is used in this context, it is put in quotes in the NIV, implying that Jesus is using the word with bit euphemistically. Even these so-called sinners know how to be nice to those who are nice to them.
In other words, as followers of Jesus, we are to go way beyond the social norms. In applying the “Golden Rule” Jesus has just laid out, we are to treat our enemies as we wish to be treated. So our enemy orders us to do some nasty chore, we are to love them, do good to them, give to them not expecting anything in return. We are to honor those who despise us.
Of all that Jesus says here, the “love them” is the hardest to swallow. I can find all kinds of ways to be nice to those who are not nice to me, all the while seething in anger or hatred inside. But loving someone is not just an act. It is an attitude. I can’t just DO something nice, I actually have to be motivated by something nice.
Jesus then helps us understand the “why” involved in all of this – why we are to love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for those who mistreat us. For, he says, our reward will be great. Okay, profit motive. But it is no monetary profit. The reward is relational, in being heirs of “The Most High” – God Himself. When we love our enemies, we show that we are not just followers of Jesus, we are children, sons and daughters, of our Heavenly Father.
Children, for better or worse, are like their parents. “The nut doesn’t fall far from the tree.” “Like father, like son.” “Like mother, like daughter.” Every culture has its own sayings that remind us that children tend to take on the characteristics of their parents. And, for those of us who are sons and daughters of the Most High, what is our Heavenly Father like? What do we emulate?
God, Jesus says, is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. So, he says, be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
When I look at my enemy, I say “no way.” When I look at the God who has been so merciful and gracious and loving toward me who deserves no such goodness, I say, “at your service.” I cannot help but respond in kind to how God has treated me. So Jesus calls me to love and honor my enemies because God has loved and honored me.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Love your Enemies – Part III
Luke 6:31
The Golden Rule. Stuck in the middle of this passage on loving your enemies. What an odd place. Or is it? Depends on your enemies, I guess.
Treat other people the way you want other people to treat you. Simple as that. It has been called the Golden Rule and hailed as the loftiest of ethical statements in the realm of human philosophical thought.
Also known as the “Ethic of Reciprocity”, sayings like it can be found in most of the great world religious, presented in either a positive form as Jesus puts it or in a negative form. Confucius, the famous Chinese philosopher who predated Jesus by five centuries, gave it in the negative: “Never impose on others what you would not choose for yourself.” Much has been made of the similarities or differences and how the Golden Rule can be applied as a universal rule. But Jesus’ statement here is best understood in the context in which it is found.
Jesus is speaking to his followers, laying out a whole new way of living to them, quite radically different from anything they have experienced to date. Jesus’ statement is not just a nice platitude to hang on your bedroom wall. It is something to be lived out and in the larger context of Jesus’ teachings taken as a whole.
To put it succinctly, Jesus wants us to be nice to those who are mean to us. Sometimes it is hard to know how to treat other people, even when they are our friends. It is especially difficult when we have to relate nicely to people who are downright nasty to us. How do we know how to treat other people?
Later Jesus tells his followers to “love your neighbor as yourself.” In other words, we are to treat other people as we would treat ourselves. Give to other people the kind of treatment you would like to receive.
In the Book of Esther, there is the fascinating story of this guy named Haman who is extremely mean to Esther’s people, the Jews, and especially to Mordecai, Esther’s uncle. One day the king asks Haman, his right hand man, what he would suggest as a way to honor someone very special. Thinking the king is talking about Haman, Haman suggests some very wonderful ideas for so honoring. Haman knows how he himself wants to be treated. How infuriating then for Haman when he finds out the king had Mordecai in mind all along! So Haman, humiliated, has to parade Mordecai through the streets of the capital in royal pomp and ceremony.
Here in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is saying we are to do this on purpose. To think of how we wish to be honored and then honor our enemies and those who mistreat us in the same way. Whatever the specifics, it is the degree or kind of treatment Jesus is after, not the specifics.
Jesus wants us to treat those who mistreat us differently than they have treated us. He says this to his disciples because he knows they will indeed be mistreated because of his name. Sometimes they will also be mistreated because they deserve it. Either way, they are not to return “eye for an eye” as they have been trained all their lives. They are to give the other eye as well when the first one is taken. For, as Jesus is about to explain, this will set them apart from everyone else in the world.
What is so special about being a follower of Jesus? What makes Christians stand out? Not just their love for each other, which Jesus mentions on other occasions. Not just their love for the poor, the outcasts and the aliens, which Jesus talks about otherwise. But especially their love for those who are downright mean to them because they are followers of Jesus.
We win by letting them smack our other cheek, not by bashing theirs’ as they have hit ours. Okay, I’m as lousy at this Golden Rule business as the next guy. Keep talking Jesus and maybe I’ll finally get it.
The Golden Rule. Stuck in the middle of this passage on loving your enemies. What an odd place. Or is it? Depends on your enemies, I guess.
Treat other people the way you want other people to treat you. Simple as that. It has been called the Golden Rule and hailed as the loftiest of ethical statements in the realm of human philosophical thought.
Also known as the “Ethic of Reciprocity”, sayings like it can be found in most of the great world religious, presented in either a positive form as Jesus puts it or in a negative form. Confucius, the famous Chinese philosopher who predated Jesus by five centuries, gave it in the negative: “Never impose on others what you would not choose for yourself.” Much has been made of the similarities or differences and how the Golden Rule can be applied as a universal rule. But Jesus’ statement here is best understood in the context in which it is found.
Jesus is speaking to his followers, laying out a whole new way of living to them, quite radically different from anything they have experienced to date. Jesus’ statement is not just a nice platitude to hang on your bedroom wall. It is something to be lived out and in the larger context of Jesus’ teachings taken as a whole.
To put it succinctly, Jesus wants us to be nice to those who are mean to us. Sometimes it is hard to know how to treat other people, even when they are our friends. It is especially difficult when we have to relate nicely to people who are downright nasty to us. How do we know how to treat other people?
Later Jesus tells his followers to “love your neighbor as yourself.” In other words, we are to treat other people as we would treat ourselves. Give to other people the kind of treatment you would like to receive.
In the Book of Esther, there is the fascinating story of this guy named Haman who is extremely mean to Esther’s people, the Jews, and especially to Mordecai, Esther’s uncle. One day the king asks Haman, his right hand man, what he would suggest as a way to honor someone very special. Thinking the king is talking about Haman, Haman suggests some very wonderful ideas for so honoring. Haman knows how he himself wants to be treated. How infuriating then for Haman when he finds out the king had Mordecai in mind all along! So Haman, humiliated, has to parade Mordecai through the streets of the capital in royal pomp and ceremony.
Here in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is saying we are to do this on purpose. To think of how we wish to be honored and then honor our enemies and those who mistreat us in the same way. Whatever the specifics, it is the degree or kind of treatment Jesus is after, not the specifics.
Jesus wants us to treat those who mistreat us differently than they have treated us. He says this to his disciples because he knows they will indeed be mistreated because of his name. Sometimes they will also be mistreated because they deserve it. Either way, they are not to return “eye for an eye” as they have been trained all their lives. They are to give the other eye as well when the first one is taken. For, as Jesus is about to explain, this will set them apart from everyone else in the world.
What is so special about being a follower of Jesus? What makes Christians stand out? Not just their love for each other, which Jesus mentions on other occasions. Not just their love for the poor, the outcasts and the aliens, which Jesus talks about otherwise. But especially their love for those who are downright mean to them because they are followers of Jesus.
We win by letting them smack our other cheek, not by bashing theirs’ as they have hit ours. Okay, I’m as lousy at this Golden Rule business as the next guy. Keep talking Jesus and maybe I’ll finally get it.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Love your Enemies – Part II
Luke 6:29-30
As I read these two verses, I am inclined to sweep them in with the verses before and after. Getting the context of a particular statement is very important. Hiding a statement you don’t want to deal with by piling it into its larger context so you don’t have to focus on it is another matter.
Here is the famous “turn the other cheek” passage. I remember being a kid and someone throwing this verse at me, along with “you can’t hit me because you are a Christian.” I never could figure out how a nonbeliever like that knew so much Scripture! But this is the verse that nonbelievers all know. It is, in fact, what they equate with what it means to follow Jesus. Why? Because it is so radically different from the way the world operates.
As Jesus says in the verses that follow, our goal as Believers is not to be as good as nonbelievers, but to go way beyond. “Even sinners do that,” he says about ordinary goodness. We are not to settle for normal, everyday, ordinary goodness.
We are, Jesus teaches, to offer our tormentors the other side of our head when they slap us on one side. We are, Jesus says, to let someone also take our sweatshirt if they take our coat. And he wraps up this scary line of thinking by declaring: “Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.”
Only an extremely secure person can handle this assignment. Where’s the exit?
For the most part, Jesus’ followers were extremely poor people. Even those among them who started off wealthy were giving it all away to help Jesus in his work and to bless the poor. No wonder Jesus said elsewhere that it was very hard for the wealthy to gain eternal salvation. They have too much to lose. No wonder that the poor are inclined to be more generous with what they have than the rich are.
Now in dealing with this kind of passage, definitely one of Jesus’ harder sayings, we are inclined to respond, “Surely Jesus doesn’t mean what we think he means. After all, this isn’t practical or doesn’t make sense.” Funny that those who are not so inclined to take Jesus at his word are more inclined to take this passage literally than those who are claim to be serious about Jesus.
Or if we are serious about Jesus’ teachings enough to wrestle with them, we rush to qualify such a passage as this with other teachings of Jesus’. But before we go doing that, we need to be honest enough with Jesus to sit and reflect on what he is saying to us right now at this point in this very passage.
What is he saying, regardless of whether I like it or it makes sense? Your security, he is saying, is not in what you own or have. Therefore, you don’t have to worry about losing anything, whether it is your pride or your reputation or your position or your possessions. Your ability to survive is not wrapped up in all these things. What he is saying now flows out of what he has just said about blessings and woes.
In the larger context he does say that our security is in God. But at this moment, he is emphasizing that our security is not in anything else. And if that is the case, then we don’t really lose when something is taken from us.
Oh, how we are tempted to race ahead to more comforting passages, but I hear Jesus saying these words to his audience on that day 2,000 years ago with a steadied rhythm that allows each sentence, each phrase to sink in deeply on its own. Give to anyone whatever they ask of you and if they take anything of yours without asking, let it go as a gift. Arrgh!!!
As I read these two verses, I am inclined to sweep them in with the verses before and after. Getting the context of a particular statement is very important. Hiding a statement you don’t want to deal with by piling it into its larger context so you don’t have to focus on it is another matter.
Here is the famous “turn the other cheek” passage. I remember being a kid and someone throwing this verse at me, along with “you can’t hit me because you are a Christian.” I never could figure out how a nonbeliever like that knew so much Scripture! But this is the verse that nonbelievers all know. It is, in fact, what they equate with what it means to follow Jesus. Why? Because it is so radically different from the way the world operates.
As Jesus says in the verses that follow, our goal as Believers is not to be as good as nonbelievers, but to go way beyond. “Even sinners do that,” he says about ordinary goodness. We are not to settle for normal, everyday, ordinary goodness.
We are, Jesus teaches, to offer our tormentors the other side of our head when they slap us on one side. We are, Jesus says, to let someone also take our sweatshirt if they take our coat. And he wraps up this scary line of thinking by declaring: “Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.”
Only an extremely secure person can handle this assignment. Where’s the exit?
For the most part, Jesus’ followers were extremely poor people. Even those among them who started off wealthy were giving it all away to help Jesus in his work and to bless the poor. No wonder Jesus said elsewhere that it was very hard for the wealthy to gain eternal salvation. They have too much to lose. No wonder that the poor are inclined to be more generous with what they have than the rich are.
Now in dealing with this kind of passage, definitely one of Jesus’ harder sayings, we are inclined to respond, “Surely Jesus doesn’t mean what we think he means. After all, this isn’t practical or doesn’t make sense.” Funny that those who are not so inclined to take Jesus at his word are more inclined to take this passage literally than those who are claim to be serious about Jesus.
Or if we are serious about Jesus’ teachings enough to wrestle with them, we rush to qualify such a passage as this with other teachings of Jesus’. But before we go doing that, we need to be honest enough with Jesus to sit and reflect on what he is saying to us right now at this point in this very passage.
What is he saying, regardless of whether I like it or it makes sense? Your security, he is saying, is not in what you own or have. Therefore, you don’t have to worry about losing anything, whether it is your pride or your reputation or your position or your possessions. Your ability to survive is not wrapped up in all these things. What he is saying now flows out of what he has just said about blessings and woes.
In the larger context he does say that our security is in God. But at this moment, he is emphasizing that our security is not in anything else. And if that is the case, then we don’t really lose when something is taken from us.
Oh, how we are tempted to race ahead to more comforting passages, but I hear Jesus saying these words to his audience on that day 2,000 years ago with a steadied rhythm that allows each sentence, each phrase to sink in deeply on its own. Give to anyone whatever they ask of you and if they take anything of yours without asking, let it go as a gift. Arrgh!!!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Love your Enemies – Part I
Luke 6:27-28
Now Jesus comes to the tough stuff. “Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who mistreat you.”
Only those with nothing to lose, as in those he has just pronounced blessings on, are ready to handle this new assignment. When we realize how totally dependent we are on God and that we can lose nothing by doing right because we have nothing left to lose, then we are indeed ready to risk all.
You’d think with all the economic chaos we are in currently that people would see that economic security is not all its trumped up to be. Not so. Ironically, the tougher things get, the more anxious we become about what we have, still thinking that our security lies in the Almighty Dollar instead of the Almighty God.
What does Jesus have to say to all that? Blessed are you who are poor, who are hungry, who are weeping, who are hated and excluded and insulted and rejected. For you are free of all the world holds dear – wealth, abundance, happiness, respect – free to love those who treat you so badly. Freedom never looked so, so inconvenient.
If we can’t avoid Jesus’ words, we try to find a resting place for them other than on our own shoulders. Like anyone else would, I want to pass these red-lettered words of Jesus off onto someone else, like maybe some dead saint or something. Then I note what he says: “But I tell you who hear me…” These words are for whoever is listening. OK, Jesus, I didn’t mean to hear what you just said.
Funny thing how we treat these words of Jesus. How sadly comical to hear people say we are to take the Bible literally, every bit of it, then in the very next breath start qualifying what Jesus is saying in this passage. “This message of Jesus and the Beatitudes in Matthew are speaking of the Millennium not this present age, so his teachings don’t all apply to us now.”
Or, “Jesus is not talking literally about giving up your coat.” (Which is exactly what he will say a couple verses down.) If not, then why doesn’t he say what he means?
And on it goes. Why is it that we take Jesus at his word only when it is convenient or only where it doesn’t really matter?
To be honest, I don’t necessarily like the direction Jesus is headed in these verses. I’m hoping he’ll get distracted by the newly arrived sick people in the crowd, take time out to heal them and then forget what he was just saying. Something about doing good to those who hate us?
Maybe I just need to take these verses at face value. Jesus wants me to love my enemies, the people I don’t like and who make me so mad. Jesus wants me to do good – be nice to, do good things for – people who hate me. Jesus wants me to bless the very people who curse me. And he is not just talking about people who use those forbidden expletives – he means that he wants me to help, affirm, enrich, empower, encourage those who tear me down. Jesus wants me to pray for the very people who mistreat me. This one I can handle. God, send these people to hell. They don’t deserve your mercy. There, I prayed for them, just like you said to do, Jesus.
To be honest with you, I have never been sure what to do with Jesus’ words in this passage. If I truly believe what he is saying, how he wants me to behave toward others, especially those who are so mean, then it will revolutionize my life. And getting one’s life revolutionized is never a pleasant thing.
Now Jesus comes to the tough stuff. “Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who mistreat you.”
Only those with nothing to lose, as in those he has just pronounced blessings on, are ready to handle this new assignment. When we realize how totally dependent we are on God and that we can lose nothing by doing right because we have nothing left to lose, then we are indeed ready to risk all.
You’d think with all the economic chaos we are in currently that people would see that economic security is not all its trumped up to be. Not so. Ironically, the tougher things get, the more anxious we become about what we have, still thinking that our security lies in the Almighty Dollar instead of the Almighty God.
What does Jesus have to say to all that? Blessed are you who are poor, who are hungry, who are weeping, who are hated and excluded and insulted and rejected. For you are free of all the world holds dear – wealth, abundance, happiness, respect – free to love those who treat you so badly. Freedom never looked so, so inconvenient.
If we can’t avoid Jesus’ words, we try to find a resting place for them other than on our own shoulders. Like anyone else would, I want to pass these red-lettered words of Jesus off onto someone else, like maybe some dead saint or something. Then I note what he says: “But I tell you who hear me…” These words are for whoever is listening. OK, Jesus, I didn’t mean to hear what you just said.
Funny thing how we treat these words of Jesus. How sadly comical to hear people say we are to take the Bible literally, every bit of it, then in the very next breath start qualifying what Jesus is saying in this passage. “This message of Jesus and the Beatitudes in Matthew are speaking of the Millennium not this present age, so his teachings don’t all apply to us now.”
Or, “Jesus is not talking literally about giving up your coat.” (Which is exactly what he will say a couple verses down.) If not, then why doesn’t he say what he means?
And on it goes. Why is it that we take Jesus at his word only when it is convenient or only where it doesn’t really matter?
To be honest, I don’t necessarily like the direction Jesus is headed in these verses. I’m hoping he’ll get distracted by the newly arrived sick people in the crowd, take time out to heal them and then forget what he was just saying. Something about doing good to those who hate us?
Maybe I just need to take these verses at face value. Jesus wants me to love my enemies, the people I don’t like and who make me so mad. Jesus wants me to do good – be nice to, do good things for – people who hate me. Jesus wants me to bless the very people who curse me. And he is not just talking about people who use those forbidden expletives – he means that he wants me to help, affirm, enrich, empower, encourage those who tear me down. Jesus wants me to pray for the very people who mistreat me. This one I can handle. God, send these people to hell. They don’t deserve your mercy. There, I prayed for them, just like you said to do, Jesus.
To be honest with you, I have never been sure what to do with Jesus’ words in this passage. If I truly believe what he is saying, how he wants me to behave toward others, especially those who are so mean, then it will revolutionize my life. And getting one’s life revolutionized is never a pleasant thing.
Monday, July 13, 2009
What’s with the Woes? – Part III
Luke 6:20-26
As is often the case in ancient Jewish literature, the main point of Jesus’ blessings and woes is to be found in the center of the passage. Rejoice, Jesus says, when you are hated, excluded and insulted and your name is rejected, for your reward in heaven will be great.
The implication is that this persecution occurs because of what we do for God, for Jesus adds the phrase to the blessings, “because of the Son of Man.” But there may be more to his point. When Jesus pronounces the Woe, he simply says, “Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for that is how they treated the false prophets.” How people speak of you is not the final analysis, Jesus is saying.
The validity of a prophetic message is not in its reception. Old Testament prophets tended to face outright rejection. John the Baptist in Jesus’ time was beheaded for speaking the truth to King Herod. John was right for doing so, but you would not have known it by Herod’s response in having John’s head cut off.
Sometimes people do stupid things in the name of God and get reviled for it by the world. I’m not sure there is much rejoicing in heaven over such stupidity. Just because someone does something in the name of Jesus does not make it a righteous act. And just because we get reviled by people for being stupid in the name of Jesus does not mean that we will be positively rewarded for it.
What Jesus is saying here is that there is no clear connection between our reputation on earth and our reputation in heaven. Later Paul writes some words about making sure to maintain a good reputation among people of the world. While this has merit, we cannot always predict anyone’s response to our actions when we do what we feel we must do before God. Sometimes doing the right thing discredits us among Believers as well as in the World.
We can even earn people’s hatred through no fault or action of our own. People hate people simply for their skin color or gender, some physical or mental feature that deviates from the norm or their parents’ reputation, or some issue about the circumstances in which they were born. Occasionally people don’t need any excuse to hate others.
Whether this ostracism fits under the blessings and woes concerning weeping or the ones about being reviled, Jesus does include in his blessings anyone who finds himself or herself a misfit in society. He came as a misfit for those who were misfits.
Certainly Jesus is saying that when we do right and people still hate us, we are to remember that the story is not yet over. Our reputation on earth means nothing beyond death. However people paint you down here, the paint does not ascend to heaven with you.
People put great energy into building and preserving a reputation while alive on earth and making sure it lasts beyond the grave. Legacy is a big deal among us humans, especially those who can afford to worry about it. While, there is something to be said for making sure you have a good reputation by maintaining right living, even the best efforts can backfire on you. Moreover, the great length people go to make sure they are respected or liked by others amounts to wasted energy, especially when we disobey God in attempting to do so. Whatever people think about you, God draws his own and completely independent conclusions.
Although it may hurt deeply when people treat you wrongly, such pain is only temporary. In the end, God will right the injustices. Better to ruin your reputation on earth by obeying God whatever the cost. And that is exactly the point why Jesus brings this issue up at this time in his teaching. He is looking for followers who understand that what people think of them is not nearly as important as what God in heaven thinks of them. Only those with a perspective anchored in eternity will be able to handle the assignments he is about to give out.
As is often the case in ancient Jewish literature, the main point of Jesus’ blessings and woes is to be found in the center of the passage. Rejoice, Jesus says, when you are hated, excluded and insulted and your name is rejected, for your reward in heaven will be great.
The implication is that this persecution occurs because of what we do for God, for Jesus adds the phrase to the blessings, “because of the Son of Man.” But there may be more to his point. When Jesus pronounces the Woe, he simply says, “Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for that is how they treated the false prophets.” How people speak of you is not the final analysis, Jesus is saying.
The validity of a prophetic message is not in its reception. Old Testament prophets tended to face outright rejection. John the Baptist in Jesus’ time was beheaded for speaking the truth to King Herod. John was right for doing so, but you would not have known it by Herod’s response in having John’s head cut off.
Sometimes people do stupid things in the name of God and get reviled for it by the world. I’m not sure there is much rejoicing in heaven over such stupidity. Just because someone does something in the name of Jesus does not make it a righteous act. And just because we get reviled by people for being stupid in the name of Jesus does not mean that we will be positively rewarded for it.
What Jesus is saying here is that there is no clear connection between our reputation on earth and our reputation in heaven. Later Paul writes some words about making sure to maintain a good reputation among people of the world. While this has merit, we cannot always predict anyone’s response to our actions when we do what we feel we must do before God. Sometimes doing the right thing discredits us among Believers as well as in the World.
We can even earn people’s hatred through no fault or action of our own. People hate people simply for their skin color or gender, some physical or mental feature that deviates from the norm or their parents’ reputation, or some issue about the circumstances in which they were born. Occasionally people don’t need any excuse to hate others.
Whether this ostracism fits under the blessings and woes concerning weeping or the ones about being reviled, Jesus does include in his blessings anyone who finds himself or herself a misfit in society. He came as a misfit for those who were misfits.
Certainly Jesus is saying that when we do right and people still hate us, we are to remember that the story is not yet over. Our reputation on earth means nothing beyond death. However people paint you down here, the paint does not ascend to heaven with you.
People put great energy into building and preserving a reputation while alive on earth and making sure it lasts beyond the grave. Legacy is a big deal among us humans, especially those who can afford to worry about it. While, there is something to be said for making sure you have a good reputation by maintaining right living, even the best efforts can backfire on you. Moreover, the great length people go to make sure they are respected or liked by others amounts to wasted energy, especially when we disobey God in attempting to do so. Whatever people think about you, God draws his own and completely independent conclusions.
Although it may hurt deeply when people treat you wrongly, such pain is only temporary. In the end, God will right the injustices. Better to ruin your reputation on earth by obeying God whatever the cost. And that is exactly the point why Jesus brings this issue up at this time in his teaching. He is looking for followers who understand that what people think of them is not nearly as important as what God in heaven thinks of them. Only those with a perspective anchored in eternity will be able to handle the assignments he is about to give out.
Monday, July 6, 2009
What’s with the Woes? – Part II
Luke 6:20-26
Far more people believe we should take the Bible literally than actually practice it as such. Take, for example, the injunction that if you have two coats, you should give one away. I have rarely met a person who believes we should take the Bible so literally that he or she has actually given away any extra coats they own for that reason.
Some Scriptures are easier to deal with in a literal sense because they are narrative. But even narrative stories have to be differentiated – some actually happened and others are just made up stories for a purpose, like Jesus’ parables.
Where our desire for literal interpretation breaks down most strongly is where the Scriptures call for action which moves us outside of our comfort zone. Jesus is notorious for such challenges. He was controversial back then and he is just as controversial today, except that we long ago found all kinds of ways to make his teachings more palatable. The Beatitudes as recorded in Matthew and the Blessings and Woes as found here in Luke are prime examples of where our willingness to take Jesus literally falters.
A critical step in working through what Jesus means is to put ourselves in the sandals of his original listeners. In this passage here, who is Jesus talking to? Luke says he is addressing his followers. To them he says, blessed are you who are poor, who hunger now, who weep now and who are hated. How are Jesus’ followers poor, hungry, weeping and hated?
Most of his followers in that time were very poor materially. In fact, throughout the ages, the poor have always responded more quickly to Jesus’ Good News than anyone else, for they have little to lose and everything to gain. Jesus says that the poor are blessed because the Kingdom of God belongs to them. What need do they have of material wealth if they have everything of God’s at their disposal?
So is Jesus talking only about those who are materially or physically poor? Obviously not, for many of the poor also reject the Good News and do not inherit the Kingdom of God. It is Matthew who mentions Jesus saying “poor in spirit.” Luke’s recording doesn’t make such a dichotomy between the spiritual and the physical and his Gospel places special emphasis on Jesus’ concern for the materially poor and the socially misfit.
To inherit the Kingdom of God, Jesus is saying, you must have no other recourse, either spiritually or materially, than God alone. Does this mean that those who are rich in resources cannot inherit the Kingdom? Jesus addresses this very question elsewhere, but the “woe” that comes in this passage says that the rich have already received their comfort, meaning they have resources of their own and so are not dependent on God, and thus have no claim on the Kingdom.
What Jesus is driving at is that to partake of God we have to let go of our dependency on all other options but God. The “Woes” here do not imply warning as much as “alas” or sadness or pity. It is too bad about those who have something other than God to lean on for they don’t need God. Wealth really is a stumbling block to getting to God, Jesus says, not an insurmountable hurdle, but a hindrance nonetheless. Blessed are those who are so poor that they have no such hurdles.
In the present world economic crisis, it is easy to forget that most Christians in the developed world are far wealthier even now than most of the Believers who have lived through the ages. The middle class of today lives better than kings and queens did in centuries past. Alas, Jesus says, when we have too much else to depend on. Better it is when our only resource is God for then the Kingdom of God is ours.
For the original audience, Jesus’ message was crystal clear. Two thousand years later, the audience may have changed, but the message hasn’t. Total dependency on God is the key to the Kingdom.
Far more people believe we should take the Bible literally than actually practice it as such. Take, for example, the injunction that if you have two coats, you should give one away. I have rarely met a person who believes we should take the Bible so literally that he or she has actually given away any extra coats they own for that reason.
Some Scriptures are easier to deal with in a literal sense because they are narrative. But even narrative stories have to be differentiated – some actually happened and others are just made up stories for a purpose, like Jesus’ parables.
Where our desire for literal interpretation breaks down most strongly is where the Scriptures call for action which moves us outside of our comfort zone. Jesus is notorious for such challenges. He was controversial back then and he is just as controversial today, except that we long ago found all kinds of ways to make his teachings more palatable. The Beatitudes as recorded in Matthew and the Blessings and Woes as found here in Luke are prime examples of where our willingness to take Jesus literally falters.
A critical step in working through what Jesus means is to put ourselves in the sandals of his original listeners. In this passage here, who is Jesus talking to? Luke says he is addressing his followers. To them he says, blessed are you who are poor, who hunger now, who weep now and who are hated. How are Jesus’ followers poor, hungry, weeping and hated?
Most of his followers in that time were very poor materially. In fact, throughout the ages, the poor have always responded more quickly to Jesus’ Good News than anyone else, for they have little to lose and everything to gain. Jesus says that the poor are blessed because the Kingdom of God belongs to them. What need do they have of material wealth if they have everything of God’s at their disposal?
So is Jesus talking only about those who are materially or physically poor? Obviously not, for many of the poor also reject the Good News and do not inherit the Kingdom of God. It is Matthew who mentions Jesus saying “poor in spirit.” Luke’s recording doesn’t make such a dichotomy between the spiritual and the physical and his Gospel places special emphasis on Jesus’ concern for the materially poor and the socially misfit.
To inherit the Kingdom of God, Jesus is saying, you must have no other recourse, either spiritually or materially, than God alone. Does this mean that those who are rich in resources cannot inherit the Kingdom? Jesus addresses this very question elsewhere, but the “woe” that comes in this passage says that the rich have already received their comfort, meaning they have resources of their own and so are not dependent on God, and thus have no claim on the Kingdom.
What Jesus is driving at is that to partake of God we have to let go of our dependency on all other options but God. The “Woes” here do not imply warning as much as “alas” or sadness or pity. It is too bad about those who have something other than God to lean on for they don’t need God. Wealth really is a stumbling block to getting to God, Jesus says, not an insurmountable hurdle, but a hindrance nonetheless. Blessed are those who are so poor that they have no such hurdles.
In the present world economic crisis, it is easy to forget that most Christians in the developed world are far wealthier even now than most of the Believers who have lived through the ages. The middle class of today lives better than kings and queens did in centuries past. Alas, Jesus says, when we have too much else to depend on. Better it is when our only resource is God for then the Kingdom of God is ours.
For the original audience, Jesus’ message was crystal clear. Two thousand years later, the audience may have changed, but the message hasn’t. Total dependency on God is the key to the Kingdom.
Monday, June 29, 2009
What's with the Woes?
Luke 6:20-26
Other than that Luke seems to be writing a Reader’s Digest version of Matthew’s “Sermon on the Mount”, there is one stark difference with Luke’s “Sermon on the Level Place”: Luke’s version of Jesus’ blessings or Beatitudes comes as combination blessings and woes in parallel form. Jesus presents in direct contrast what it means to be both blessed and in grave danger.
There is the sense in Luke that there is no neutral stance with God, no gear between forward and reverse. There is no “blessed” state and everything else. There is only “blessed” and “in trouble.”
Whereas Jesus says in Matthew blessed are the “poor in spirit,” in Luke he says, “blessed are you who are poor.” What do we do with this? Does he mean poor “in spirit?” Could be. But then what do we do with “woe to you who are rich”? If the poor and rich are parallel, does rich now also mean “in spirit”? And if so, how can it be that it is wrong to be rich in spirit? Isn’t that the meaning of “blessed” – to be rich in spirit?
It all starts to break down. We find ourselves having to explain a lot when it comes to the meaning of Jesus’ words. And the more we explain the more we wonder what he really meant.
One thing the “woes” do for the blessings is to keep us from merely spiritualizing them. Spiritualizing can be a form of dismissal. “He means that in the spiritual sense” translates into “doesn’t relate to reality” and finally to “isn’t important.”
Go down the list with each of the blessings and woes and you start to get the feeling that you cannot so easily dismiss these blessings by spiritualizing them. So then try to take them materially and you still get messed up. If we believe that Jesus speaks with consistency throughout all of his teachings, then somehow each individual teaching, including this passage, has to fit with the rest of his teachings.
Like Karl Marx, Jesus embraces the poor. Unlike Marx, Jesus does not call for class struggle. For Jesus knows that class struggle only leads to victims and abusers switching places, not to eradicating abuse. So then do we dismiss the material application and revert to the spiritual?
If we are to do anything with what Jesus is saying in this complicated passage, we cannot take his words lightly or readily deposit them in some “easy” category. No, Jesus intends for his listeners (that is, his disciples) to wrestle and wrestle hard with what he is saying.
What he is laying out here for his disciples is a whole new world order, a totally new way of thinking and doing things. And as his listeners, we must be grapple with what he is saying even if it feels uncomfortable or offends our sensibilities. This one thing is sure: everything as we understood it is now inside out. The poor, the hungry, those in mourning, the misfits are blessed, and the rich, the well-fed, the laughing, and the well-thought-of are in trouble.
How easy it is to move on, to avoid chewing on these verses for an extended season. But we find little comfort in what comes after unless we have chewed the essential out of these blessings and woes. We cannot begin to understand what it means to love our enemies or be generous with the faults of others unless and until we learn what it means to be truly blessed of God.
So before we move on, let’s take some time to come to grips with what Jesus really means by “blessed are you who are poor” and “woe to you who are rich.”
Other than that Luke seems to be writing a Reader’s Digest version of Matthew’s “Sermon on the Mount”, there is one stark difference with Luke’s “Sermon on the Level Place”: Luke’s version of Jesus’ blessings or Beatitudes comes as combination blessings and woes in parallel form. Jesus presents in direct contrast what it means to be both blessed and in grave danger.
There is the sense in Luke that there is no neutral stance with God, no gear between forward and reverse. There is no “blessed” state and everything else. There is only “blessed” and “in trouble.”
Whereas Jesus says in Matthew blessed are the “poor in spirit,” in Luke he says, “blessed are you who are poor.” What do we do with this? Does he mean poor “in spirit?” Could be. But then what do we do with “woe to you who are rich”? If the poor and rich are parallel, does rich now also mean “in spirit”? And if so, how can it be that it is wrong to be rich in spirit? Isn’t that the meaning of “blessed” – to be rich in spirit?
It all starts to break down. We find ourselves having to explain a lot when it comes to the meaning of Jesus’ words. And the more we explain the more we wonder what he really meant.
One thing the “woes” do for the blessings is to keep us from merely spiritualizing them. Spiritualizing can be a form of dismissal. “He means that in the spiritual sense” translates into “doesn’t relate to reality” and finally to “isn’t important.”
Go down the list with each of the blessings and woes and you start to get the feeling that you cannot so easily dismiss these blessings by spiritualizing them. So then try to take them materially and you still get messed up. If we believe that Jesus speaks with consistency throughout all of his teachings, then somehow each individual teaching, including this passage, has to fit with the rest of his teachings.
Like Karl Marx, Jesus embraces the poor. Unlike Marx, Jesus does not call for class struggle. For Jesus knows that class struggle only leads to victims and abusers switching places, not to eradicating abuse. So then do we dismiss the material application and revert to the spiritual?
If we are to do anything with what Jesus is saying in this complicated passage, we cannot take his words lightly or readily deposit them in some “easy” category. No, Jesus intends for his listeners (that is, his disciples) to wrestle and wrestle hard with what he is saying.
What he is laying out here for his disciples is a whole new world order, a totally new way of thinking and doing things. And as his listeners, we must be grapple with what he is saying even if it feels uncomfortable or offends our sensibilities. This one thing is sure: everything as we understood it is now inside out. The poor, the hungry, those in mourning, the misfits are blessed, and the rich, the well-fed, the laughing, and the well-thought-of are in trouble.
How easy it is to move on, to avoid chewing on these verses for an extended season. But we find little comfort in what comes after unless we have chewed the essential out of these blessings and woes. We cannot begin to understand what it means to love our enemies or be generous with the faults of others unless and until we learn what it means to be truly blessed of God.
So before we move on, let’s take some time to come to grips with what Jesus really means by “blessed are you who are poor” and “woe to you who are rich.”
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Sermon on the Level Place
Luke 6:17-20
In Matthew 5-7, Jesus gives a lengthy discourse which has come to be famously known as “The Sermon on the Mount.” Luke presents a parallel picture in Luke 6:20-49, with two glaring exceptions:
One, Matthew has Jesus going up on a mountainside (thus the title we all use) and sitting down, whereas Luke has Jesus going down to a level place (thus my title for this posting) and standing. Two and more significantly, Luke’s version is much shorter.
What is going on here? Is this a case of one or both of the gospel writers being inaccurate? A couple of options present themselves.
First, it could be a simple matter of interpretation. Matthew was there and he pictures for us how Jesus was up on a mountainside and he gives us all the details, including every last utterance that day. Luke, who probably got his information from Paul who got his from a mix of Peter, John Mark and others, notes that Jesus spends the night on the mountain, then connects with his disciples up there, and finally descends to a lower part of the mountain, finds a level place to accommodate a lot more people and starts talking, still on the mountain. At times he sits and at times he stands. Luke provides us a shortened version of what Jesus says.
Second, it could be that we have two different events and that Jesus says very similar things at both events. I don’t doubt that Jesus shared his ideas and stories over and over again. Either one of these options is highly plausible. Either way, there is no big deal.
So Jesus descends to a more level place on the mountain, which happens to be somewhere in Galilee. Luke notes that a large crowd of his disciples are there along with a great host of people from all over, including Jerusalem and Judea to the south and Tyre and Sidon to the north. Pick up on this. He has lots more disciples than the Twelve and even more than the crowd out of which he picked the Twelve that morning.
Word travels like a prairie fire in a drought that Jesus has chosen a handful of his disciples as special envoys. This is a significant move for Jesus who has led his following without any structure up till then. They get the sense (correctly) that Jesus is about to make some very significant statements.
Meanwhile, word is getting around about Jesus – how he heals the sick and drives out evil spirits. Other preachers do this too. But there’s something different about Jesus, especially the way he stands up to the religious authorities. All Jews felt oppressed by the Romans. But the masses of the poor among the Jews also felt oppressed by the religious leaders who lorded it over them with their Scriptural overtones much as American slave-masters had the Scriptures about obedience beat into their African slaves. So they flocked by the droves from everywhere to this man who was standing up to such oppressive leadership – and getting away with it.
They are deeply attracted to him, even trying to touch him for, Luke the doctor writes, “power was coming from him and healing them all.” It is an amazing day.
At first, Jesus ministers to everyone. Then he focuses his attention on his disciples, not necessarily just the Twelve, but certainly on those who self-identify as his followers, and he begins to teach them.
What he had to say to them has since been interpreted by Dispensationalists and others as for a future utopian age called the Millennium. Jesus’ words continue to be dismissed as irrelevant for today as they were by the religious leaders back then – not just by modern skeptics and unbelievers, but by Believers who, while taking the Bible’s apocalyptic writings literally, spiritualize the words of Jesus, afraid of what might happen if people were to truly take him seriously for the here and now. Jesus speaks words of truth, clearly intended for the present day, for those who heard back then and for those like us who hear now. As he concludes, “Blessed are those who hear and put these words into practice.”
In Matthew 5-7, Jesus gives a lengthy discourse which has come to be famously known as “The Sermon on the Mount.” Luke presents a parallel picture in Luke 6:20-49, with two glaring exceptions:
One, Matthew has Jesus going up on a mountainside (thus the title we all use) and sitting down, whereas Luke has Jesus going down to a level place (thus my title for this posting) and standing. Two and more significantly, Luke’s version is much shorter.
What is going on here? Is this a case of one or both of the gospel writers being inaccurate? A couple of options present themselves.
First, it could be a simple matter of interpretation. Matthew was there and he pictures for us how Jesus was up on a mountainside and he gives us all the details, including every last utterance that day. Luke, who probably got his information from Paul who got his from a mix of Peter, John Mark and others, notes that Jesus spends the night on the mountain, then connects with his disciples up there, and finally descends to a lower part of the mountain, finds a level place to accommodate a lot more people and starts talking, still on the mountain. At times he sits and at times he stands. Luke provides us a shortened version of what Jesus says.
Second, it could be that we have two different events and that Jesus says very similar things at both events. I don’t doubt that Jesus shared his ideas and stories over and over again. Either one of these options is highly plausible. Either way, there is no big deal.
So Jesus descends to a more level place on the mountain, which happens to be somewhere in Galilee. Luke notes that a large crowd of his disciples are there along with a great host of people from all over, including Jerusalem and Judea to the south and Tyre and Sidon to the north. Pick up on this. He has lots more disciples than the Twelve and even more than the crowd out of which he picked the Twelve that morning.
Word travels like a prairie fire in a drought that Jesus has chosen a handful of his disciples as special envoys. This is a significant move for Jesus who has led his following without any structure up till then. They get the sense (correctly) that Jesus is about to make some very significant statements.
Meanwhile, word is getting around about Jesus – how he heals the sick and drives out evil spirits. Other preachers do this too. But there’s something different about Jesus, especially the way he stands up to the religious authorities. All Jews felt oppressed by the Romans. But the masses of the poor among the Jews also felt oppressed by the religious leaders who lorded it over them with their Scriptural overtones much as American slave-masters had the Scriptures about obedience beat into their African slaves. So they flocked by the droves from everywhere to this man who was standing up to such oppressive leadership – and getting away with it.
They are deeply attracted to him, even trying to touch him for, Luke the doctor writes, “power was coming from him and healing them all.” It is an amazing day.
At first, Jesus ministers to everyone. Then he focuses his attention on his disciples, not necessarily just the Twelve, but certainly on those who self-identify as his followers, and he begins to teach them.
What he had to say to them has since been interpreted by Dispensationalists and others as for a future utopian age called the Millennium. Jesus’ words continue to be dismissed as irrelevant for today as they were by the religious leaders back then – not just by modern skeptics and unbelievers, but by Believers who, while taking the Bible’s apocalyptic writings literally, spiritualize the words of Jesus, afraid of what might happen if people were to truly take him seriously for the here and now. Jesus speaks words of truth, clearly intended for the present day, for those who heard back then and for those like us who hear now. As he concludes, “Blessed are those who hear and put these words into practice.”
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Significance of the Twelve
Luke 6:13-16
Morning dawns. Jesus has been out all night. Praying. He calls to his followers. It could have been a drawn out affair, hunting them down in nearby villages. More likely, they are hunkered down asleep in the surrounding open country, oblivious that Jesus has been up all night, aware only that they are following this rabbi wherever he chooses to wander. Word spreads quickly when Jesus returns to where they are sleeping and the disciples quickly rouse themselves, pushing away the groggy affects of the night’s slumber.
Jesus calls them, his disciples, these followers who have been drawn to him since his public ministry began. He calls them to come to him, to gather around. And gather they do. Not just the Twelve we usually think of as his disciples, but an unknown number of people. He calls them all, every one, to himself and from among this larger group chooses twelve, designating them as “Sent Ones” or envoys. Apostles.
It is a two-fold calling Jesus gives. One, to come be with him and, two, to be sent out by him. Not sequential, but simultaneous. Just as Jesus himself has done – sent out by the Father to earth while at the same time remaining in constant contact with the Father. All followers of Jesus have this two-fold calling. For each one the “sent out” looks different. For everyone, the “called to be with Jesus” is the same.
The Twelve have no idea on this particular day what their “sent out” will look like, other than perhaps that in some way they will represent Jesus. For that matter, they won’t fully know until it is all over and life has ended. At present all they know to do is take it one step at a time. Well, they also have a title, a title which eventually goes to their heads. Doesn’t it always. Jesus will tone them down a bit on that, help them understand that the only bragging rights, if you can call them that, are that they have been called to be with him.
It is an insignificant group, this Twelve that Jesus singles out. We know the rest of the story, so we read into this verse everything we know about Peter and John and … Judas. Iscariot, that is. There is another Judas in the Twelve, distinguished from the infamous traitor only as the son of a certain James. What is striking about this Judas is that he is not. Striking, that is. He is as much an unknown to us as James son of one Alpheus and Simon – not the superstar, Peter, but a zealot, meaning this Simon is a radical.
These and a couple of others, like Bartholomew, never show up in the Scriptures other than as the Twelve. In the canon, they have no speaking parts. Tradition tells us they eventually go on to the “uttermost parts” and become martyrs. But so do so many other people who never get the super-designation of “The Twelve.”
Jesus doesn’t call these twelve because they have already achieved a measure of earthly significance. The occupation best represented is “fisherman.” Otherwise there is a tax collector, a political agitator, and some shadows in the crowds of the day.
Nor does Jesus call them because they will achieve a higher degree of significance than all the rest of his disciples. We know some of Peter’s story. We certainly know Judas’. John and Matthew go on to write significant portions of our New Testament. James becomes the first martyr. All but John, tradition tells us, become martyrs. But that could be said of a host of other early disciples of Jesus.
These are “called outs,” not stand outs. The most important feature about these Twelve is that Jesus calls them. Any significance they have is wrapped up in their relationship with Jesus. And ten thousand years from now it won’t really matter what anyone other than Jesus thinks of them or what they did or did not accomplish on this earth. As the old hymn concludes, “I am his and he is mine.” That is the best that can be said of any follower of Jesus.
Morning dawns. Jesus has been out all night. Praying. He calls to his followers. It could have been a drawn out affair, hunting them down in nearby villages. More likely, they are hunkered down asleep in the surrounding open country, oblivious that Jesus has been up all night, aware only that they are following this rabbi wherever he chooses to wander. Word spreads quickly when Jesus returns to where they are sleeping and the disciples quickly rouse themselves, pushing away the groggy affects of the night’s slumber.
Jesus calls them, his disciples, these followers who have been drawn to him since his public ministry began. He calls them to come to him, to gather around. And gather they do. Not just the Twelve we usually think of as his disciples, but an unknown number of people. He calls them all, every one, to himself and from among this larger group chooses twelve, designating them as “Sent Ones” or envoys. Apostles.
It is a two-fold calling Jesus gives. One, to come be with him and, two, to be sent out by him. Not sequential, but simultaneous. Just as Jesus himself has done – sent out by the Father to earth while at the same time remaining in constant contact with the Father. All followers of Jesus have this two-fold calling. For each one the “sent out” looks different. For everyone, the “called to be with Jesus” is the same.
The Twelve have no idea on this particular day what their “sent out” will look like, other than perhaps that in some way they will represent Jesus. For that matter, they won’t fully know until it is all over and life has ended. At present all they know to do is take it one step at a time. Well, they also have a title, a title which eventually goes to their heads. Doesn’t it always. Jesus will tone them down a bit on that, help them understand that the only bragging rights, if you can call them that, are that they have been called to be with him.
It is an insignificant group, this Twelve that Jesus singles out. We know the rest of the story, so we read into this verse everything we know about Peter and John and … Judas. Iscariot, that is. There is another Judas in the Twelve, distinguished from the infamous traitor only as the son of a certain James. What is striking about this Judas is that he is not. Striking, that is. He is as much an unknown to us as James son of one Alpheus and Simon – not the superstar, Peter, but a zealot, meaning this Simon is a radical.
These and a couple of others, like Bartholomew, never show up in the Scriptures other than as the Twelve. In the canon, they have no speaking parts. Tradition tells us they eventually go on to the “uttermost parts” and become martyrs. But so do so many other people who never get the super-designation of “The Twelve.”
Jesus doesn’t call these twelve because they have already achieved a measure of earthly significance. The occupation best represented is “fisherman.” Otherwise there is a tax collector, a political agitator, and some shadows in the crowds of the day.
Nor does Jesus call them because they will achieve a higher degree of significance than all the rest of his disciples. We know some of Peter’s story. We certainly know Judas’. John and Matthew go on to write significant portions of our New Testament. James becomes the first martyr. All but John, tradition tells us, become martyrs. But that could be said of a host of other early disciples of Jesus.
These are “called outs,” not stand outs. The most important feature about these Twelve is that Jesus calls them. Any significance they have is wrapped up in their relationship with Jesus. And ten thousand years from now it won’t really matter what anyone other than Jesus thinks of them or what they did or did not accomplish on this earth. As the old hymn concludes, “I am his and he is mine.” That is the best that can be said of any follower of Jesus.
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