Negotiating with Jesus, #45

“Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” 

And her daughter was healed instantly.”

Matthew 15:28, (context, vv. 21-28)

Negotiating with God is not for the timid. It takes spiritual guts, and very few do it right. This chapter begins with a strong teaching on Jewish tradition and moral purity. The scribes and the Pharisee’s have cornered the market on social and religious correctness, and they have a solid grip on the Jewish faith. You must do what they say.

Suddenly there’s a noisy commotion, up jumps a Gentile woman who is terribly loud and terribly desperate, she’s caught somewhere between rudeness and hysteria. She has a disturbing need for her daughter to be released from a demon’s control–there’s a satanic oppression that wants to destroy her. Only Jesus can stop it.

The Judaism of Jesus’ day was not doing its job. Israel was meant to be a “light to the Gentiles,” and a source of healing and truth to the nations of the earth. Clearly it had become confused–its traditions and ceremonies that had nothing to do with the salvation of the world.

Perhaps the failure of the Jewish people to reach the world parallels the failure of the Church to carry out Jesus’ Great Commission? Religion has always stood in the way of God’s heart and His plan to bring salvation to everyone. I think this is the main reason Jesus hated it so.

This woman has a need that only Jesus could meet. She embarrasses herself insisting that Jesus take action. She seems almost rude to the point of being obnoxious. She is repeatedly told to be quiet, that her daughter’s deliverance was not in the plan of God. But that’s an answer she will not accept.

How honest are my conversations with God? Do I say what I really think? Do I intercede for others?

This is one of more unsettling verses in the New Testament–at least for me anyway. Everyone in this passage seems somewhat rude, even a bit boorish to me–even Jesus seems off, which really does unsettle me. There’s a stilted awkwardness in this passage that makes me want to apologize about Jesus’ attitude to all my unbelieving friends. I just don’t get all the national, racial, and social issues that are involved here.

An addendum though: Not every scripture is ever grasped once, and for all time understood. I’ve learned there are verses that reveal their layers years later. Onion-like. I think that this is probably true–for me anyway. The same verse will speak to me over and over again.

Given Very Little Honor, Entry #41

“Jesus told them,

“A prophet has little honor in his hometown, among his relatives, on the streets he played in as a child.”

Jesus wasn’t able to do much of anything there—he laid hands on a few sick people and healed them, that’s all.”

Mark 6:4, the Message

“For some reason, they hate me.” There’s a real pain that we give each other, especially when it’s on the level of friends and our close family. It seems those relationships are vulnerable, and have the most exposure. When somebody close to us has an issue with us, that pain is deep and lasting. Others well, not so much.

Those closest to us have seen our issues. They’ve seen us at our best, and definitely at our worst. Other relationships are briefer, and they see us, and only subjectively. The salacious details never come out into the open, and we certainly won’t reveal them.

Jesus, the sinless one, faces the same problem in His hometown, the village of Nazareth where He was raised. He has already worked incredible miracles, things that absolutely stagger the imagination. He has raised the dead, healed lepers and cured the paralyzed. He has walked in the light of God unlike anyone who preceded him.

And His teaching? Oh my, no one was ever listen to such marvelous words that describe the Father’s kingdom so well. His words do astonish, and bring absolute light into some pretty dark darkness. The things He says, are astonishing. There has never been anyone like Him.

When Jesus returns to His hometown He discovers an insidious resistance to His words and miracles. People think they ‘know’ Him. A few remember Him playing with their own children–kicking the can, or riding around on the neighbor’s donkey. They ‘think’ they know Him. They really do. But they’re very much mistaken.

But what about our own misconceptions?

There are lessons in this passage we need to learn. Does my idea of Jesus limit or restrict His work? Perhaps we should realize that His miracles often stop when our unbelief begins. Since we think we know Him so well, we think we determine what He can, and cannot do. But seriously, do we truly grasp who Jesus really is?

“Unbelief is not a misfortune to be pitied; it is a sin to be deplored. It’s sinfulness lies in the fact that it contradicts the word of the one true God and thus attributes falsehood to Him.”

-John Stott

Mark 6:4

Two Blind Men, Entry #40

The blind men came to him, and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” They said to him, “Yes, Lord.” Then he touched their eyes, saying, “According to your faith be it done to you.” 

And their eyes were opened. 

Matthew 9:28-30, (context vv. 27-31)

I remember reading a story; more like a sanctified fable but maybe containing a bit of truth? The story (possibly from a French poem?) was that wherever Jesus would walk flowers would bloom in His footprints. I suppose the idea was that wherever Jesus went–life, healing and wholeness happened. It was His footprints; His presence that brought out the very essence of the Kingdom of God.

The love Jesus has for us is that wonderful. His grace–a grace that heals and forgives, a grace that’s now flourishing in the heart of a every real disciple. His mere presence brings us flowers even in the hard times.

Without Him, it seems we’re stuck with plastic roses that really don’t impress anyone. They aren’t real.

Jesus heals these blind men. They are completely without sight. They have understood nothing but blackness, but that is about to be instantly changed, it will come like a switch is flipped. Pop! Instant sight. Suddenly everything floods in. They “see” everything for the first time. Imagine, to be sightless, and then to suddenly see. Colors, trees, flowers, faces, and Jesus all at once. Can you imagine what that must be like?

These men had to have faith–that ‘spiritual ability’ to step out and grasp a healing that hasn’t come yet. They first need to trust the man (Jesus) before the healing can ever be received. “Do you believe I can do this…” I suppose the issue here is identity, the Lord Jesus Christ declaring His authority over this blindness. He intends to heal. It’s His nature to heal.

Wherever Jesus chooses to walk, supernatural things happen. We’re called to trust the person of Jesus, to simply believe Him, and expect Him to keep His word; but whatever happens, happens. Believers will choose to continue to believe, no matter what. They know the difference between real and plastic flowers.

I believe in Jesus’ character–His absolute love for me, and His power over everything. I love Him, and I look for His presence, and suddenly amazing miracles happen. But it’s Him–it’s all Him, and I must put my faith in Him. He does all the work, I’m the lazy guy leaning on my shovel.

But He wants to heal us, that’s His nature. My feeble faith can move things. My mustard seed faith can elevate mountains. It makes wonderful things happen. But that faith has to be fortified, cemented into His heart– we must tell of Jesus’ kindness and mercy and love for those still lost. We must believe in Him to touch others, and then whatever might happen after that will always be His decision. He will always be the Lord either way.

“When human reason has exhausted every possibility, the children can go to their Father and receive all they need. … For only when you have become utterly dependent upon prayer and faith, only when all human possibilities have been exhausted, can you begin to reckon that God will intervene and work His miracles.”

-Basilea Schlink

   

Gonzo Faith, Entry #38

He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” 

Mark 4:40 (context vv. 35-41)

Often fear rules the human heart. Quite suddenly the waves seem too high, and the wind starts to really howl. We look at our circumstances and we freak out by what we see. Things look grim, and often we imagine the worse is going to happen. Fear has its sharp hooks in us; and everything is starting to get really crazy.

Jesus often zaps us at times like this. When our boat is pitching violently in open seas, we’ve lost our anchor and the sails are useless, it’s then we start looking around to find where we put our life-jackets. We choose this approach rather than calling out to Him.

It seems that becomes our last option–to beg Him to come and save us. (We can get so stiff-necked sometimes. I think it really is a pride/humility issue.)

Faith is probably the most significant part of this verse. It’s faith in Him that screams out of our storm. When faith shows up, fear leaves. We get one or another. I suppose it’s always going to come to this–will it be fear or faith? We must grasp this lesson, hopefully sooner rather than later. The storm is how the Kingdom of God gets worked into the human heart.

“Faith expects from God what is beyond all expectation.”

-Andrew Murray

“Have you no faith?” That’s Jesus’ interesting question to His believers who are about die. Crazy! But know this, these tempests will never be random or capricious. His love has absolute control over each of them. All He wants is that His disciples will see a truly powerful love, that really does save.

Calling on Him must become our first reaction, and not the fifteenth.

We’ll learn to do this first eventually, even if it means repeating the lesson over and over and over, until faith becomes our first response. Jesus often uses a bad storm to put the Kingdom even deeper inside of people. “Have you no faith” isn’t so much as an indictment of you, as it’s a deep and concerned observation. And only the storm can reveal your faith.

Forgiveness Finds a Place at Simon’s Table, Entry #36

“And Jesus answering said to him, 

“Simon, I have something to say to you.” 

And he answered, “Say it, Teacher.”

Luke 7:40, (context, 36-40)

This has to be one of my favorite passages of scripture. Simon, who is a Pharisee, has invited Jesus for dinner. I suppose he intends to impress Him, or at the very least he wants to Jesus to look more favorably on his religious sect. It’s simple PR work for him. (Maybe even tax deductible?)

But in comes this woman, and she spoils everything. The ESV translation describes her as a “sinner” and a “woman of the city,” (whatever that means?) She bursts into the dining room wielding an alabaster flask of ointment. She kneels and weeps, and uses the locks of her hair to rub the perfume on the dirty feet of Jesus.

She is crying, and I have to believe she’s very aware of her sin–nobody has to tell her that she has wasted her life. Simon, on the other hand, finds her behavior with Jesus quite objectionable. He’s obviously disturbed by her presence, and he only can only see her outside actions, his vision never really extends to see her broken heart.

And yet Jesus is quite aware of the tension that’s now developing. He’s spiritually sensitive to all that’s swirling around Him, and we see Him jumping at the chance to teach Simon (the Pharisee) a lesson on true forgiveness.

It seems that a certain moneylender had two men that owed him money. One was indebted with just a modest sum; the other was bound by a huge debt. It seems that both men couldn’t repay what they had borrowed. So inexplicably, the lender cancelled the debt of both of them, the little and the big. These men were now free. They owed nothing–not a red cent.

OK now. Who will “love him more?”

Jesus compares the responses of these ‘ex-debtors’ and takes it to a very logical conclusion. “Who will love him more?” Simon obviously understands this line of reasoning, and we hear him responding correctly to Jesus’ lesson on mercy and grace.

Simon realizes there are those out there who are terrible sinners, they are wicked and have walked in sin and darkness for a very long time. They’re irrevocably stained by their sin, it has shaped them to the point that their personalities have been altered. Sadly, they know all of this, and it breaks their heart in two. They tell no one, but God knows.

The schooling Simon receives is the Kingdom logic that corrects his definition of God’s mercy. The kindness that God bestows on us is proportional, those who “owe” much are forgiven much. And as a result they love much.

When you see a person weeping at the altar, overcome by their sense of sin and they seem terribly broken, you’ll understand the love they now have for Jesus. A tremendous debt has been forgiven, and they get up and walk away as free men and women. They now finally understand how to love. They have been forgiven.

“The truth is that there are such things as Christian tears, and too few of us ever weep them.”

― John Stott

The Easy Yoke, Entry #35

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30, (context, vv. 25-30)

I have thought some on these two verses; I’ve come to the conclusion that it really must be understood as a holy ‘invite.’ A gracious bidding to come to Him, to find much needed rest, and discover meaningful work. This is a gentle summons to blend both rest and work and then live it out in our lives.

Jesus is aware of my weak and faltering steps. I stumble a lot, I weave and trip often. Yet He never criticizes me, He finds no fault, but matches His steps to mine. On His own, Jesus could do the work much faster. But He insists we stay yoked, connected with each other. This amazes me.

The moment we do this we’ll understand that the combination of these two will always balance and correct us. It will pour out of us love, grace and gentleness. The fruits of the Spirit can be seen, and we become salt of the earth.

He invites us to come and be yoked, and to enter into true rest, and true work.

“Thou hast created us for Thyself, and our heart is not quiet until it rests in Thee.”

-St. Augustine

A Definite Drunkard, Entry #34

Please think about this image for a second

“The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds.”

Matthew 11:19, (context, vv. 16-19)

What part does excessive “eating and drinking” don’t we understand? It doesn’t seem entirely ‘religious,’ especially in the thinking of us who observe the life of a pastor or a shepherd. We demand a certain restraint, a standard of separateness from common sinners. That’s seems to be our personal view anyway.

Is gluttony wrong? Is getting a bit tipsy also unacceptable, especially when it comes to “true” religion? Quite often it seems, we have a pious approach toward what we think is ‘true’ faith. We often believe that truth equates to being an ascetic, separate from common sinners. We believe if we are truly holy we will segregate from the ungodly.

It seems that Jesus doesn’t relate to, or accept this viewpoint. He’s single-mindedly serving the Father, in perfect holiness and in true connection with Him. And yet we see Him cavorting with tax-collectors and sinners. We observe Him actually sitting with those we reject as ungodly or unholy.

I must say this before you start looking for rocks to stone me with!

Scripture clearly tells us that we’re to live holy lives. We’re to be wise and have self-control in everything. We should always remember our own ‘black hole’, and begin to see our new life as really incredible. We must allow the “fruits of the Spirit” to grow inside us. And lived rightly, it’s a place of real holiness; and certainly not the ‘pretend’ righteousness of the Pharisee.

Listen very carefully: The Pharisees reject and label those who seem to flaunt the religious norms, but broken believers will truly forgive others, like those who have been radically forgiven themselves. There is a stark difference.

But think about it, aren’t we all a tiny bit ungodly?

Don’t we somehow grade people by their outward appearance and the level of their attainment? It absolutely astounds me that Jesus seems far more comfortable with the outcasts than He does with the Pharisees of His day. He sits with them, and eats and drinks in a fashion that we would regard objectionable.

Jesus loves every person. He loves the unmade, and the unvarnished. He loves being with the ungodly. Yes, He does understand the awful nature of sin; the horrible damage it inflicts on a person’s soul. And yet I’ve come to the conclusion that all my righteous and holy religion is nothing but a very bad smell in God’s nostrils.

Jesus isn’t afraid that we will somehow taint Him by our words, conduct or behavior. He passionately loves those who we deem as outside the norm of our religion. Jesus loves being with ‘nasty’ people. I think He purposefully seeks out the wrong ones!

It fascinates me that Jesus is never afraid that the leper will corrupt or defile Him. He isn’t fearful that somehow He will be contaminated. That’s exactly what the Pharisees thought. But instead it’s the reverse with Jesus. He heals us, and it’s always a one-way current. He touches us, but we’ll never ‘poison’ Him!

Just maybe our awful failure in evangelism is due to our inability to really relate with the lost. We withdraw and then wonder why the unsaved don’t understand the things of God. Have we become so religious that sinners don’t feel comfortable with us, or Him? Could it be that we’re a bit off course? Are we really filled with His Spirit?

“The greatest form of praise is the sound of consecrated feet seeking out the lost and helpless.”

-Billy Graham

Being Worthy of Jesus, Entry #31

“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. 38 And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”

Matthew 10:37-38 (context, vv. 34-38)

It’s funny, but we never realize that the challenges of following Jesus are never more than the cost of not following Him. The cross leads to death, most certainly. But let’s never forget that there is a resurrection that does happen after that death. We’ll never live unless we die first.

The problem is that we don’t want to die!

We cling to our lives with the intensity of a drowning man clinging to a ‘life ring.’ We dare not let go. We dare not simply give up and really call out to Jesus. We hang on to the old life, and as a result, will never, ever experience the new. We believe that we will really drown. We are afraid.

Jesus is demanding from us a preeminent love for Him. A love that ‘nullifies’ anything earthly; a love that surpasses anything “good and proper.” He wants it all! There will be no competition, no contesting our love for Him. Jesus is either all, or He will be nothing.

Yes, there is a “cross.”

There will be a awful terrible death to everything we think brings us life. The “disciples” understood crucifixion. A Roman general once did it to the members of a Jewish rebellion. He lined the highways with 2000 crosses, to declare the iron-clad sovereignty of Rome.

Yes, the disciples knew. They remembered the horrifying deaths of so many. They undoubtedly passed by these insurrectionists who hung on these crosses and died. They vividly understood that a cross wasn’t a piece of jewelry, but it meant an awful bloody death of a human being. They knew. The cross was gruesome.

Following Jesus means this kind of death.

It ends everything dear to us. It irrevocably ends life as we know it. Life now consists of having a first love, a renouncing everything else that we hold dear. The relationships we thought were good, are now stumbling blocks to the path to our cross.

Yes, there is always a resurrection. Life will be given back to us. But death comes first, and it is incredibly painful. Sometimes we preach and teach, we embrace a “resurrection” life that excludes a cross. We jump right into a Christianity that has circumvented a terrible death. We are now officially, “cross-less Christians.”

“Unless he obeys, a man cannot believe.”

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

 

He Touched the Coffin, #26

And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, 

“Do not weep.” 

Then he came up and touched the coffin, and the bearers stood still. And he said, 

“Young man, I say to you, arise.”

Luke 7:13-14 (context, vv. 11-17)

Widows who had no family to support them had it rough. This woman’s husband had died and now her only son was gone. A widow was forced to rely on relatives to meet their needs, but now she had no one. She was all alone and faced a very difficult life. She was vulnerable. And now she saw her only son being carried out of the city to be buried.

The two groups came together. Jesus and His group of disciples were going into Nain and met the funeral procession coming out. Jesus came to the woman as she led the crowd. She was weeping as she walked. I have to believe that His heart met hers.

Jesus response to her was mercy and compassion.

I really think His heart was broken for her. He immediately stopped the funeral march and went straight to her to comfort and console. Apparently no one else took up this. Yet Jesus went to her. That really encourages me.

The body had been washed and rubbed with aromatic spices. His hair had been combed and his fingernails had been clipped. He had been carefully wrapped in linen according to Jewish custom. He had been placed in an open funeral bier, to be carried to the grave site.

Nain was an interesting place. Just a few miles away the prophet Elisha had raised the dead by laying on the corpse repeatedly, 2 Kings 4:32-35. Jesus however, raises the dead with a simple sentence. I think that is interesting. It shows that the power of God that resides in the person of Jesus.

God cares for people.

Obviously Jesus is a full and complete member of the Trinity. He possesses all power and strength. He is the Word and the Creator of everything in the universe. And yet we see that this all powerful one is full of mercy and compassion. He loves widows and orphans. He loves people, and understands their needs. He rolls up His sleeves and enters into their pain and misery.

I suppose the compassion that Jesus has is the most intriguing part of Matthew 7. God loves people intensely. He intervenes in their lives. He meets needs that no one else can understand. He possesses all power and has an infinite amount of love. He can be trusted to meet every need. After all, He can raise the dead with a few simple words.

“His is a loving, tender hand, full of sympathy and compassion.”

-D.L. Moody

“Centurion” Faith, #25

Jesus said to him, “I come and heal him.”

Matthew 8:7 (context, vv. 5-13)

See the remarkable faith of a Roman centurion. Can we really fathom the deep depth of such belief? He comes to Jesus with a desire for the healing of a servant. He was doing something that a Gentile would never stoop to do. He sought the healing from a homeless itinerant teacher who happened to be a Jew.

This Roman soldier was an enemy. They occupied the land of Israel. If Jesus decided to withhold a healing (to make a point) this was the time! I’m guessing that His refusal would be a good lesson to the disciples, and the watching crowds.

Although the numbers under the command of the centurion varied, he commonly oversaw up to 6,000 men. In battle, they took position in the very front, they were expected to be the first over a wall or through a breach. The centurion was responsible for every aspect of his men. Every centurion of Rome was expected to display ultimate courage on the battlefield.

Typically it took 15-20 hard years to become a centurion. Service was very difficult, living conditions were rough at best. The centurion was not married, he had no family. To be a centurion’s servant you would be responsible for every aspect of his master’s needs. But most of all, the servants became the centurion’s only family. They stayed with him for the duration of his service.

I suppose this explains much. The servant was paralyzed. The text in Matthew says that he was suffering terribly. No doubt the centurion sought out doctors and treatments, but apparently this didn’t help. He was at wit’s end and really didn’t know what to do. I suppose being helpless will often turn people to Jesus.

Jesus seems to have developed a reputation. Those in need, the desperate, sought out His healing power. It seems like that He was now becoming famous for His ability to heal diseases. It’s interesting but scripture clearly shows that Jesus really didn’t want to be this famous. He repeatedly told people not to tell anyone about their healing.

We can see the centurion’s respect for rank and authority.

He explains his own authority over his own soldiers. When he commands he is obeyed without question. He recognizes command and leadership. This man fully understands, and he clearly acknowledges the ultimate authority of Jesus Christ.

When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him,” 

“Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith.”

Matthew 8:10

Emulating this man’s faith is the true task of every believer. We must continually put ourselves under the authority of Jesus. His lordship is to be supreme. His rule over us should never be questioned. He commands everything, and we must obey without any reservation. This new depth of faith must now become our true calling.

A couple of observations. 1) There exists a “quality” kind of faith in comparison to a weaker faith. There seems to be degrees of faith. 2) Quality faith recognizes the true authority and supreme lordship of Jesus. 3) Quality faith can be seen in very strange places. 4) This quality faith is meant to be sought and imitated. It is meant to be recognized by every disciple.

“Just as a servant knows that he must first obey his master in all things, so the surrender to an implicit and unquestionable obedience must become the essential characteristic of our lives.”

-Andrew Murray