Passion Week XXVII

But they kept on insisting, saying, “He stirs up the people, teaching all over Judea, starting from Galilee even as far as this place.”  When Pilate heard it, he asked whether the man was a Galilean.  And when he learned that He belonged to Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent Him to Herod, who himself also was in Jerusalem at that time. (Luke 23:5-7 NASB)

Pilate is still caught between the people he doesn’t want to help, and the silent guy in front of him he wants to help.  In the end, he’s really just a person in a country of people.  It’s just that, for Pilate, this Person really does seem different.  Of all the characters involved, only Jesus is at peace.  That’s very backward from the usual drama of Jerusalem.

But among the virulent accusations flying from the gaping gnashing holes of lies before him, Pilate hears, “…from Galilee” to describe Jesus.  This is what Pilate’s been looking for, a back door off this stage, and out of this tragic comedy.  So, he sends Jesus to the “Herod” who had already killed John the Baptist out of embarrassment.  Easy-peasy, Jesus is as good as dead already.

Conveniently, Herod is actually in Jerusalem for the feast (so we think).  It doesn’t say why Herod is in Jerusalem, only that he is.  The Passover is going on, so perhaps that’s why.  In the case of Herod, it could only be a political or social excuse.  He’s the “Chief of a Fourth” so anything to get the other three-fourths is worth the effort.  And it’s unlikely this king will be a part of a traditional Passover meal.  He’s even less Jewish than his father, and never tried as hard to be accepted by the people he governed.

That being said, Pilate has found “Door Number 3”, and he’s taking it.  We already know it won’t work, but let’s stop and look at ourselves in light of Pilate’s approach to Jesus.  Pilate isn’t Jewish.  He hasn’t been steeped in their traditions and teachings.  He’s not even close to being a “believer”.  He has centurions under him who are God-fearing gentiles, respectful of the Jewish people, and many of them well-liked.  He is nothing like that.  So his approach to Jesus is as a “political animal” rather than a “believing Gentile”.

If you’re reading this, presumably you already believe, at least to a degree, that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and Savior of the World.  From the outset, our approaches to Jesus differ from Pilate’s in this passage.  While that initially gives us a great advantage, the similarities in our decisions about what to do with Jesus should be extremely telling.  Think about a time, especially as a believer, you let Jesus be somebody else’s problem; you passed on the opportunity to stand for Him, you sought any other option than to endanger your position or comfort to stand for Him.

Now, that shame your feeling, (because who hasn’t done this) hold that emotion in your left hand (work with me here).  Now, think back to Jesus in the upper room with His disciples. He’s just said they will eventually sit on thrones judging the tribes of Israel.  And then He leans over and says to Peter, “Simon, Simon, Satan has demanded to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith will be strengthened.”  Do you remember that?  Do you also remember that Jesus, immediately after, predicts Peter’s denial of Him?  Take that shame in your left hand and hold it up to Jesus.  It’s not like He didn’t know it was coming on you.  But also hear from Him His prayer for your faith, because it’s at times like this that we need to return and strengthen others.

The thing about Pilate is that he does what Peter does, in a sense.  And in that same sense, hasn’t surprised Jesus.  So, Pilate has the same option to “return”, but in a different sense.  To our shock, so do the religious leaders.  Even Judas had the option.  It’s not about the failure, it is, once again, about the response to the failure.  Our relationship with Jesus is different than Pilate’s.  And we have the chance, the calling, to return to that relationship rather than live in the shame of the failure.

So, yes, we’ve pulled a “Pilate”, and sought convenient options other than declaring Jesus as our King.  But we also have the calling of our King to return to Him.  Think that through.  He knows we’re going to deny Him, but He calls us back anyway.  We’re stuck in mediocrity between what we know and what we do.  No shock to our Master.  We’re not what we imagine we should have been by now.  Didn’t surprise Jesus.  We missed the bar we set for ourselves among our peers.  Jesus, leaning on the fallen bar, holds out His hand to pull us to our feet.  Is it possible that we’ve been looking at this relationship all wrong?  Perhaps we should take that hand, be pulled to our feet, and listen to His explanation.  There’s something we’re missing we desperately need to know.

What do you see through your knothole this morning?

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Passion Week XXVI

Then the whole body of them got up and brought Him before Pilate.  And they began to accuse Him, saying, “We found this man misleading our nation and forbidding to pay taxes to Caesar, and saying that He Himself is Christ, a King.”  So Pilate asked Him, saying, “Are You the King of the Jews?” And He answered him and said, “It is as you say.”  Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, “I find no guilt in this man.” (Luke 23:1-4 NASB)

Having concluded that Jesus claims to be God, and therefore, deity, the religious leaders take Him to Pilate for execution.  The problem is that claiming to be a foreign god isn’t a “hanging offense” under Roman law.  But rebels are punished pretty quickly, so they accuse Jesus of sedition (just to be able to use that word in a sentence).

Their initial accusations refer back to some of their confrontations during the week, like paying taxes.  But others refer to Jesus as claiming to be a king, and that He claims to be an “anointed one”.  Being anointed does have meaning in Roman and Greek culture, just not exactly the same meaning.  Anointing for Greeks and Romans is what you did with medicine on a wounded person.  But the Romans were very aware of the political ramifications of anointing to the Jews.  So when the Jewish leaders say, “king”, Pilate begins his interrogation.

The Problem for Pilate is that when asked, Jesus doesn’t go frothing-at-the-mouth crazy.  That would have made the job easier, and it’s what others did.  But instead, Jesus is calmly saying yes in an oblique manner.  So, Pilate returns and says he finds no guilt in Jesus.

In other Gospels, more detail is supplied about Pilate’s predicament.  His wife warns him to stay out of it.  Jesus has no problem with Pilate’s authority, and claims His kingdom is from another realm (does Pilate think He’s nuts?).  Regardless which Gospel you read, Pilate does not have a rebel before Him, only rabid religious leaders.  The ones frothing-at-the-mouth crazy, inciting a riot among the people, are the ones seeking to have Jesus crucified.  It’s a tragic irony.  And at some point, it really comes down to keeping the peace during the festival.

Still, Pilate will be trying other means to apply a modicum of justice to the event.  Of course, it won’t work.  Unbeknownst to everyone but Jesus, He has an appointment with a cross, at a particular hour on that that specific day.  It’s an appointment set when the universe was created, to be heralded by signs in the sun and moon.  How could Pilate know?  How could the religious leaders have known?  Jesus knew.  Jesus sees this act unfold exactly as written by the Playwright of Heaven.  But Jesus also knows this isn’t His final act.

When confronted with social and cultural pressure to disavow Jesus, what do we do?  Far too often, we do the expedient thing.  In order to not be offensive, we decide to prevent a riot, to keep the peace.  Too many things go wrong with that behavior.  The “reasonable” believers are stuck in the middle between rabid-frothing-at-the-mouth religious nuts wanting to kill everyone disagreeing with them, and the comfortable religious sanguine group who sell out the practice of their faith in Jesus to a bowl of mixed nuts.  Many in the middle are caught between the desire to simply minister to the hurts of humanity, and the clamor for lies in the society at large.

Jesus neither held a sign saying “God hates everybody”, nor did He simply “go along to get along” with the religious leaders.  He wandered the region healing, preaching the truth, raising the dead, and casting out demons.  Jesus set a course, and everyone else could either get on board or watch from the dock as He left them behind.  He invited some, some of those accepted His invitation, and others didn’t.  But He didn’t deviate from His goal, His appointment with a cross.

I suspect our problem is more about not having that sense of divine goal or purpose.  We don’t seek the definitions of our lives which only our Master provides.  When we do, we don’t like the answers we get.  The purpose is behind us, but we won’t turn around.  The goal lies in a direction we’ve already rejected, so we don’t see it.  We look without turning the head or lifting the clutter of our lives.  What we want is for our Master to confirm our goals and purposes.  What He wants is for us to follow Jesus to a cross.  So, we check our calendars for the first opening we can find.  But, finding no convenient time to be tortured to death, we ask for another goal or purpose.  In a sense, we, once again, choose from the tree providing us the right and power to choose good and evil for ourselves.

Life lies at the end of a path through a method of humiliating death.  Death is found on every other path. Discipleship, repentance, and faith are the ingredients resulting in love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, and self-control.  We want those things, but balk at the price God charges.  Will we be crucified with Christ, and no longer live?  Will we live this life in the body by faith in the Son of God who has loved us and gave Himself for us?  We can’t have one with out the other.  That’s just how this play was written.  We can try to write another, but the warning from Scripture is that such a play is always a tragedy.

What’s your view through your knothole this morning?

Passion Week XXIV

But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” Immediately, while he was still speaking, a rooster crowed.  The Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how He had told him, “Before a rooster crows today, you will deny Me three times.”  And he went out and wept bitterly.

Now the men who were holding Jesus in custody were mocking Him and beating Him, and they blindfolded Him and were asking Him, saying, “Prophesy, who is the one who hit You?”  And they were saying many other things against Him, blaspheming. (Luke 22:60-65 NASB)

Only in Luke does Jesus look directly at Peter when the rooster crows.  It’s probably a literary device for heightened dramatic effect.  But it’s also inspired Scripture.  To ask if Jesus did or didn’t misses the point.  The point is made in the combination of verses 31 through 34 with these verses.  Yes, Jesus predicted Peter’s denial.  But He also prayed for Peter’s faith, that he would return and strengthen his brothers.  Left by itself, without the additional context of verses 31 through 34, this can seem to be Jesus’ accusing stare.  But with the context it can be better understood as Jesus’ understanding and encouraging stare.

Peter had wandered away from his intent in the courtyard.  He had been sifted like wheat.  It was brutal.  It was a testing few of us have had to endure with such stakes.  Arguments can be made that he didn’t have the Holy Spirit at the time; Peter didn’t have the death, burial, and resurrection to bolster his understanding at the time; or whatever we can come up with to explain Peter’s struggle in the courtyard.  Whatever our explanation, the truth is that he failed to acknowledge his relationship with Jesus, and so have we.  The additional truth is that Jesus already saw that part, but looked forward to Peter’s return, and so He does with us.

What I gain from this is a view of something my Master has given me as a purpose.  He has told me that I am to wait, worship, and walk before Him.  Part of the truth of that third element is that, when I too fail, my Master looks right at me.  When I fail, my Master locks eyes with me.  He doesn’t turn away.  He doesn’t ignore what I did.  He doesn’t point a finger, but looks into my eyes, the windows of my soul.  And I believe He acknowledges that it’s time for the next step, returning.  His look is not accusatory, not a look of disappointment, not a look of disdain or rejection.  His look is one of understanding and invitation.  It’s time to return.  This is part of “walking before Him”, not that I won’t fail as I do, but that as I fail in in His presence, He calls me back.

Peter remembers his Master predicting his failure.  He leaves and weeps bitterly.  But he returns.  In the moment, it’s not about his return.  In the moment the rooster crows, and Jesus looks into his eyes, all Peter can think of is his failure.  He was sifted and found lacking.  The accuser shouts in his head that he failed, and is not worthy to even follow Jesus, perhaps even that what’s happening to Jesus is somehow Peter’s fault.  He weeps bitterly.  Judas will feel remorse and weep bitterly, but from there the paths diverge.  Peter returns and strengthens his brothers.  Judas does not.  Both betrayed Jesus in a sense.  But only one returned.

Feel the stare of Jesus.  Look into His eyes.  When you fail, stumble, or fall, what will you do?  Will you look into the eyes of Jesus and think only of your failure?  Or will you hear His voice calling you back, and when you have returned, strengthen your family of fellow believers?  It’s okay that your failure distracts you and to weep bitterly.  But don’t let it consume you.  Your Master calls you back.  We need your strengthening.

I was going to go on about how ironic it was for the guards to ask Jesus to prophesy who hit Him.  He had just had a recent prediction come to completion with Peter’s denial.  But this sort of wrote itself.  It was ironic.  I’ll leave it at that.  Now, Jesus is calling you back.  What will you do?

What’s your view of Jesus through your knothole?

Passion Week XXIII

Having arrested Him, they led Him away and brought Him to the house of the high priest; but Peter was following at a distance.  After they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter was sitting among them.  And a servant-girl, seeing him as he sat in the firelight and looking intently at him, said, “This man was with Him too.”  But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know Him.”  A little later, another saw him and said, “You are one of them too!” But Peter said, “Man, I am not!”  After about an hour had passed, another man began to insist, saying, “Certainly this man also was with Him, for he is a Galilean too.”  But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” Immediately, while he was still speaking, a rooster crowed.  (Luke 22:54-60 NASB)

This is perhaps one of the most striking depictions of Peter in Scripture.  It is so important to the good news of salvation through Jesus that it makes it into every Gospel record.  Each is different, but each records a version of it.  Isn’t it interesting that Peter’s denial of Jesus is given such importance?  Why would that be?  Why is Peter’s failure to follow Jesus all the way to the cross so important?  It wasn’t like he was unique among the other disciples, none of them went to the cross with Jesus either.  They all fled Gethsemane when Jesus was arrested.

But Peter is caught between what he wants to be, knows he should be, and his fears.  He’s close, but afraid to be closer.  He wants to know what’s happening, what will happen, but not willing to endanger himself.  In John the ironies are pronounced as John lets Jesus in and is there as well, but isn’t bothered.  People already know him, and seem to have no problem with him.  But Peter fears being known and associated with Jesus.

Peter finds it easier to deny his association than risk not knowing what happens to Jesus.  But then the denials become the focus, and he’s less concerned about knowing what happens.  Eventually Peter discovers he’s sold out just as predicted, and leaves, not knowing what happens to Jesus.  He fails to get what he wants by trying to protect his getting what he wants.   He wants to be that strong follower of Jesus, to be that one who goes to the very end.  But Peter discovers that he doesn’t have it in him.

How is this not a depiction of us?   Which of us has not denied our association with Jesus for far less?   When have we’ve resisted bringing up our faith in conversations with our neighbors and family, or perhaps we’ve skipped church or personal time with Jesus to be around our friends, go on a vacation, or have “family time”?  How often have we made clear our priorities, and where our relationship with Jesus falls in those priorities, when we subordinated Jesus to everyone else in our life?

Jesus loves us.  He’ll understand and forgive.  We can treat Him this way.  We somehow convince ourselves we get away with it.  Think about that.  What does that even mean?  How do we get away with it?   Can we really have convinced ourselves that we can suffer no consequences for living with Jesus as a minimal priority?  Seriously?

Peter understood and wept bitterly when he discovered what he had done.  He felt remorse.  But more, he returned to the disciples.  In the beginning of the song, What if I stumble by DC Talk, Brennan Manning can be heard saying,

The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door and deny Him with their lifestyle.   That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.

So, yes, Peter denies Jesus three times, just as Jesus said he would.  And so do we.  The question for Peter was what he would do with that failure.  And so it is for us.  Will we continue to live in that manner, or feel remorse but go no further than feeling?  Or will we, like Peter return to our brothers and sisters to strengthen them?  Jesus has prayed for us, and continues to pray for us, that our faith might be strengthened.

Jesus wants us to return after failure.  He doesn’t want us to remain in the failure, believing that His understanding us means there will be no consequences.  He wants us to treasure our relationship with Him so highly that everything that endangers that relationship is too much for us to bear.  Jesus wants the loss or diminishing of our relationship with Him to be consequence enough.  But in case you believe that there would be nothing beyond that, please read this:

“Therefore everyone who confesses Me before men, I will also confess him before My Father who is in heaven.  But whoever denies Me before men, I will also deny him before My Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 10:32-33 NASB)

Brennan Manning’s statement may be sobering, but please let this be terrifying.  Do we we really think risking being denied before the Father in heaven is worth whatever discomfort we avoid here?  It certainly isn’t comfortable to deny Jesus with our lives.  For a while it nags at us.  Fear the day it stops nagging at us.  Return!  If we deny Him three times, return!  If we live as if we are dead, return!  If we have chosen to drift with the current of this world, return!  Return to Him, and He will rescue us.  Return to Him and His love will extend to us.  He will restore those who return, He will certainly do it.  But we must return.  We must.

That’s my view through this knothole.  What do you learn of our Master from Peter?

Passion Week XVII

Now the Feast of Unleavened Bread, which is called the Passover, was approaching.  The chief priests and the scribes were seeking how they might put Him to death; for they were afraid of the people.  And Satan entered into Judas who was called Iscariot, belonging to the number of the twelve.  And he went away and discussed with the chief priests and officers how he might betray Him to them.  They were glad and agreed to give him money.  So he consented, and began seeking a good opportunity to betray Him to them apart from the crowd. (Luke 22:1-6 NASB)

It was really hard not to drop the passion week numbering and call this entry “Sold Out”.  In terms of what those words mean, it can be positive or negative, especially in regards to our relationship with Jesus.  In Judas we see the clear negative meaning in someone who should surprise us.

Judas was chosen just like the others.  Judas was one of those who were familiar with Jesus from the time of the baptism until His death.  He had seen Jesus heal, raise the dead, feed five thousand, walk on water, and calm storms.  He heard demons cry out in terror at Jesus’ approach, seen them flee and loudly leave those whom Jesus cured.  Judas knew Jesus was Master of the natural and spiritual realms.  And Judas sold Jesus out for silver.

I believe that, in retrospect, the disciples saw in Judas the worst of human character.  But at the time, suspected none of it.  It’s one of the ironies of Scripture that this man can be so close to the Savior of the world, be so accepted and loved by Jesus, and then betray Him.  John especially has no good thing to say about Judas, even about his conduct while among the disciples (6:70,71; 12:4-6, 13:2, 26-30).

This character then, when viewed as the disciples looked back to tell the story of Jesus’ life, was rotten from early on.  He was one of those who no one would have picked for holy service. And yet Jesus, who knew a guy with a jar of water would go to a house ready to use for the Passover, looks at Judas and invites him in.  In John 13, it’s clear Jesus knows exactly what Judas is doing.  Any theories that Judas is a close friend, ally, or some other inner-circle sort of character clearly has a lot of Scripture to ignore.  He wasn’t seen that way by the disciples.

So why?  Why did Jesus pick this thoroughly wicked looser?  Why did God-in-the-flesh call this twisted and deviant version of His beautiful human creatures?  In Lord of the Rings, he’s Gollum.  In Star Wars, he is portrayed in the betrayal of the good by Anakin surrendering to be Darth Vader.  All good fairy stories have a betrayer character, and Judas is the penultimate betrayer in the one fairy story that’s actually true.  He had the best of all circumstances available to him, but he chose silver instead.  He saw it all, he heard it all, he was a witness of the Fullness of God in bodily form; yet, in the end, it was all for sale.

Even so, Jesus celebrates His memorial supper with Judas.  Jesus washes Judas’ feet.  Jesus gives Judas the preferred morsel of “friendship” at the Passover.  Jesus gives Judas every opportunity to stop the train wreck of his life.  But Satan entered into Judas.  Satan had put it into the heart of Judas to betray Jesus (John 13:2), so in a sense, he had already possessed this sorry puppet, as Luke says in verse 3.  But when Judas accepts the morsel of friendship, Judas accelerates down the disastrous rails to his doom.

A great Communion message I heard this past weekend said that Judas was interesting, not as a pattern to follow, but as a warning of what working for salvation looks like.  I thought that was an odd thing to say until the gentlemen explained that, after he betrayed Jesus, he then tried to repent by giving the money back and, in despair, committing suicide.  In other words, Judas tried to earn his way back in, when the very thing he caused was actually the only means of his salvation.  Once again, Judas completely missed it.  I thought that was an amazing observation to make.  The tragic figure of Judas is as important as the malevolent evil one.

I learn two lessons from the character of Judas and his relationship to Jesus.  On the one hand, I see that the danger of missing who Jesus truly is, is a danger even the ones closest to Him face.  I can’t stop focusing on my Master, loosing sight of His face for a moment, or thinking I’ve figured Him out.  But the second thing I learn is from Jesus’ choice to hang with this tragic creature. Who is so evil that I can’t love them?  Isn’t that true even though their life may be a train wreck coming on at break-neck speed?  Even if I know I can’t change them, should I too love them and accept them, and give them every chance to jump from the train of disaster?  But I typically find them too risky or not worth my time and effort.  I don’t want to jump on their train, but I should be willing to wait at the next whistle stop to invite them to get off.

What’s your view through your knothole this morning?

Shift Your Paradigm For the Kingdom Is Near!

“I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. So choose life in order that you may live, you and your descendants, by loving the LORD your God, by obeying His voice, and by holding fast to Him; for this is your life and the length of your days, that you may live in the land which the LORD swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to give them.” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20 NASB)

I’m ecstatic that I recently purchased a set of books, a 10 volume theological dictionary just of the New Testament.  And of course I want to pursue a current study trend of mine, repentance.  The dictionary begins with the difference between repentance and remorse.  But then spends page after page on repentance, both in the Old Testament and in the New.  I’m loving this.  But I’m also challenged by what I find.

Back in school I began the pursuit of a theory that all of Scripture was God helping His human creatures understand the definition of death.  I believed that He was doing this so we could choose between life and death.  Therefore, all of the Hebrew Scriptures would have this theme, and all of the Christian Scriptures would have this theme.  See, we do dumb stuff when we’re young, we all do.

My attempt at simplification of Scripture has fallen on deaf ears and hard times.  Much of Scripture simply refuses to conform to this theory.  Undeterred, I press on in my study of Scripture with this theory in the back of my mind.  I have found that life and death mean something different for God than they do for His human creatures.  We think of it in biological terms (brain activity, respiration, growth, etc.).  I believe God thinks of life and death in purely relational terms.  So for us it’s only accidentally biological.  The cessation of those biological functions signals the end of a set of relationships.

Anyway, regardless of whether I’m right or wrong, I find that this theory encroaches on my other studies, like repentance.  In a sense, I’m beginning to see repentance as that process in our lives that reverses the decisions and repercussions made in the Garden of Eden.  Repentance is becoming for me the choosing of the other tree.

In Deuteronomy 30, Moses is setting before the people a ceremony they are to conduct once they enter the land.  The people are to stand on two mountains, write the blessings and curses of Deuteronomy on stones, and shout across the valley to each other reciting them.  As Moses wraps up his instructions, he finishes with the words, “I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and the curse.”

In the typical Hebrew “parallel” literary construction, blessing = life and curse = death.  Not hard to understand at all.  But then we read further.  Life is further defined as 1) loving God, 2) obeying God, and 3) holding fast to God.  In other words, life is relational.  And specifically, life is relationship with God.  To be in relationship with God is being alive, and not being in relationship with God is being dead.  Which means many people are biologically alive, but actually dead.  I don’t know about you, but that sounds vaguely Christian to me (Ephesians 2:1-10).

So, the idea of repentance, this change of mind to agree with God, now becomes a reversal of that condition lost in the Garden.  In the process of “being transformed by the renewing of our minds” (Romans 12:2), we live.  The process is the choice of life, to love God, to obey Him, to holding fast to Him (faithfulness).  How do we choose?  In the choice of relationships, we choose our Master over everyone else.  In the choice of time we choose to spend it with Him.  In the choice of words, we choose to speak His words.

Our world view will become the world view of its Creator.  Our “paradigm” will shift to align with His “paradigm”.  It’s not adaptation, it’s realignment.  It’s a return to the directions and definitions of where we started.  Repentance is a return, but not a 180 turn in behavior.  Repentance is a return to the life we were intended to live, and that results in a change in behavior.  But it begins in the processes of the mind and the intent of the heart.  As Jesus set His face toward Jerusalem, and therefore the cross, we are to set our faces toward His throne, and therefore His face.

That was a meandering romp through theological thought.  What’s your view through your knothole?  Life and death, your thoughts?

For What Do We Beg?

As Jesus was approaching Jericho, a blind man was sitting by the road begging. Now hearing a crowd going by, he began to inquire what this was. They told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. And he called out, saying, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Lk. 18:35-38 NAU)

I asked what do we want earlier, but I wanted to point out that here that the “beggar” didn’t stop begging once he heard Who was coming along.  He had been begging before, for money from those passing by.  Once he hears Jesus is passing by, he still begs, but this time louder and with more vigor.  Like last time, he’s after his sight.  But I missed the change (pun unintended, but I like it).

The change to which I refer is the change from begging for coins to begging for healing.  Either way, he’s a beggar.  And keep in mind he’s a beggar because that’s what he’s doing, not because he’s blind.  He only chose to beg because he was blind, but he had a very limited number of other options.  Begging was actually fairly risky for a blind person.

The thing is, I’m supposed to see myself in this blind man.  He’s important.  Mark 10:46-52 (therefore Mark’s source of info on Jesus) actually has his name (Bartimaeus) and his father’s name (Timaeus)…okay, so that’s a translation of his name, but still, it has this sense of familiarity.  The sense in Mark is that this guy is known within the church in Jerusalem or Judea at any rate.

The irony is that this guy is known forever after his healing as Blind Bartimaeus.  Here’s what I’m seeing in this guy’s status, he was a beggar and blind.  And after being healed, he was remembered as blind but not a beggar.  He asked for his sight, and those who knew him later remembered his story, the story of Blind Bartimaeus, but not the story of Beggar Bartimaeus.  He was a blind beggar.  Now’s he’s not.  Poof.

See, one of the things that’s so hard to help people get is some sense of what they don’t know.  I deal with this at work all the time.  It drives me nuts.  On the other hand, I’m honing a skill in helping people get a sense of what they don’t know, can’t see, and have no idea is even possible.  It’s amazing, and I love that part.

In one instant, some poor guy (or gal) is moping along saddled with a regulatory requirement.  The next, they have this potential to know the background about the regulatory implications of any random occurrence their clients spring on them.  One instant they are the victims of the random business choices of their clients, the next they have the business agility to appear as magical sages of all things business.

Unfortunately, it’s not always easy to get clients to see this.  Most of the time they only see the regulatory compliance as a necessary evil.  They remain on the roadside begging.  And many times, so do I.  I hear of great things Jesus is doing in the lives of others, and I look over and smile, but assume that’s not for me.  I’ve heard too many faddish stories of wondrous things that never happened or never materialized in my life.

After trying to replicate the work of God in my life I heard about in another’s, I give up and keep begging by the roadside.  I remain a beggar.  I remain blind.  But on the other hand, I’m vaguely aware that there is more.  I have heard of this Jesus who heals.  There is this ridge line of spiritual life that I dare not ascend and cross.  He calls me up to it, and I shrink back from the effort, having been disappointed so often by the strain of it and pain.

But on the other hand, sometimes the crowd passing me by gets my attention.  I perceive the commotion, the fervor, the excitement, and hope begins to well up.  Maybe this time.  And once more I begin the ascent.  But along the way, I am forced to give up resentments, to stop behaviors I’ve come to love, to see myself for all the accumulated garbage that has begun to define me (I’m a beggar?).  As that begins to fall away, the entanglements and sin of Hebrews 12, I find the climbing easier, the ridge line comes into view once again.  I’m repenting.

And on the other side will be another valley, and another ridge line.  But a better valley, and a higher ridge line.  I will be stronger, know my Jesus more, and I will be remembered as blind, but no longer a beggar.  I’m okay here in this valley, but I know there’s more.  I want to be more than an okay beggar.

What do you see through your knothole?  What does the former blind beggar teach you?

Forgiveness

“Be on your guard! If your brother sins, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him.  And if he sins against you seven times a day, and returns to you seven times, saying, ‘I repent,’ forgive him.” (Luke 17:3-4 NASB)

Forgiveness is one of those things Christians are supposed to do that we work really hard to find a way around.  I think we normally ignore the requirement.  Sometimes, increasing our depth of commitment to Jesus, we redefine forgiveness so that we are able to do it.  Rarely do we truly forgive as Jesus intended nor with the the frequency or priority that He places on it.  Rarely.  In fact, we’ve probably done so much damage to the concept few of us really understand it any more.

Boundaries is a book and a teaching by Henry Cloud and John Townsend in which they teach how to set appropriate boundaries in our relationships with others and ourselves.  It’s actually quite biblical.  Few have read it.  Many use the term, and most misuse the term.  Boundaries have become our favorite method of “side-stepping” forgiveness.  We don’t forgive because we can’t let someone violate our boundaries.  Or we redefine forgiveness so that we can say we have forgiven yet not violated our boundaries.

The reality is that we have set up walls and Cloud and Townsend taught that boundaries are to be fences; fences with gates.  The truth is that Cloud and Townsend teach about forgiveness in the book and how to forgive with appropriate boundaries.  The reality they point out is that unless we forgive, we actually keep stuff that isn’t ours inside our boundaries.  Forgiving is setting and maintaining appropriate boundaries.  But we fear and the fear supersedes the teaching of Jesus in Scripture.

The word forgiveness in Greek is “aphiemi”, which has a basic meaning of “to send away”.  It’s used for cancelling debt (to send the amount owed away), leave (to go away), abandon (to leave someone), send away, to divorce (to send away a wife/spouse), and to forgive.  Think about the irony in that forgiveness is the same word used for divorce.  The meaning is really derived from what is being sent away.  And I believe Jesus teaches pretty clearly what we are to send away in order to forgive.

Matthew 18 has Peter asking how many times should he forgive, suggesting 49 times.  Jesus pushes the number to 490.  But He also ties forgiveness to being forgiven by God.  That was probably as unexpected as the 490.  In Matthew 6, in explaining the Model Prayer, Jesus says that if we do not forgive we will not be forgiven.  So in Luke we see this simple summary of Matthew’s expansion in chapter 18.  Someone repents seven times, forgive seven times.  Think that through.  That would mean we would forgive repeat offenders.

Forgiveness isn’t simply something that we should do because it’s ‘good’.  Forgiveness is something we should do because it’s necessary.   Forgiveness is necessary for us to be disciples of Jesus.  What else do you think Jesus meant when He said that we would not be forgiven if we don’t forgive?  However you answer that, the answer has to include not being His disciple.  In such a case, repentance would be to forgive the person we had refused to forgive. In that case forgiveness would be ours as well.  Forgiveness is tied to repentance so closely as to be dependent. But it’s often our own repentance rather than another’s.

I believe Jesus calls us, as His disciples, to send away our resentments.  Resentments are kept on the roll-call of grievances we hold against others.  These resentments define other people in our minds and hearts.  Other people, like we us, grow and develop, and deepen their walk with Jesus.  That roll-call of grievances refuses to permit Jesus to define them for us.  We only see them as they were, not as the Holy Spirit is transforming them now.  We refuse to acknowledge their growth.

Such a view doesn’t prevent them from growing, but it does make their growth more difficult; to the degree of our continued proximity to them.  So you have a good idea of the severity of this problem, check out verses 1 and 2 of this chapter.  It would be better for the unforgiving one to swim with a millstone.  And I suspect that for us who struggle to forgive, it is a lot like swimming with a millstone.  Jesus calls us to send the rock away and swim freely with our fellow forgiven disciples.

So, that’s one view through a knothole.  What do you see and learn from these verses?

Are the Pharisees “Saved”?

Now all the tax collectors and the sinners were coming near Him to listen to Him.  Both the Pharisees and the scribes began to grumble, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” (Lk. 15:1-2 NAU)

And He said, “A man had two sons.” (Lk. 15:11 NAU)

We spend a lot of time snickering at the Pharisees described in the Gospels.  Jesus seems merciless in His denouncement of them many times.  And here, Jesus responds to their “grumbling” with a series of parables. But rather than say, as Jesus has before, that being descendant from Abraham won’t “save” you, Jesus seems to include them as sons, and “good sons” at that.  So are Pharisees “saved”? Or just these? Or is Jesus just making a different point about acceptance?

Keep in mind that Luke is writing to a different audience, a Gentile audience.  This audience of Luke has suffered at the hands of Jewish believers or Jews in general who sometimes required Jewish custom as part of the life of a believer.  This tension between the groups can be seen often in Acts and in the letters of Paul to various churches in both Europe and Asia.  It wasn’t simply a local problem centered around once church or city.

What makes this question all the more interesting is the preceding statements of Jesus about the cost of discipleship.  Those costs would beg the question whether these Pharisees and scribes have paid that cost.  I’m also asking this question with the understanding that the point of all three parables is the joy expressed by God over a repentant soul, and the invitation to join Him.  It’s not about whether the Pharisees and scribes were “saved” in any sense.  It’s about them welcoming back these sinners and tax collectors without expecting more punishment for them than they’ve already experienced.

The reason I’m exploring this is I sense that, while I’m expected to rejoice over the repentant, I’m not included in those who are rejoiced over when they repent.  In once sense I feel like an example of the younger brother who doesn’t get a party when he repents. Now, to use the setting of this parable (or abuse it, you decide), it’s isn’t that I’ve taken my inheritance into a far country.  Instead I’ve stayed home and run the family farm into the ground.  I suppose in one sense I reached a point where me and “dad” were sitting on the porch looking out over the desolation of what used to be a thriving farm.

I say this to bring up a point.  If the roles were switched, would the sinners and tax collectors rejoice over repentant Pharisees?  I think that had the older brother come in the house, the younger brother would have been grateful, but would he have rejoiced over what it took for the older brother to come in?  I don’t know if I’ve made this clear or not, but basic need for a “repentance party” isn’t restricted to the ones who travel out and come back.  Sometimes those who simply made a “local mess” want one too.  I believe that in heaven, when the “local sinning Pharisee” repents, they get a party too.

So, at the risk of wallowing in self-pity, and sounding like someone missed my birthday, let me just say that I’m not referring to a recent event.  You’re not likely to find something like what I’m referring to in my blog entries or even in my comments on other blogs.  It’s more like a regret from a former part of my life that still aches from time to time.  I hope I never make the mistake of not rejoicing over a repentant soul, regardless of how far or how close they’ve been.

Oh, and I believe the answer to the question is no.  Do you remember the question?  What’s your view through this knothole?

Repentance and Proximity

“But when he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired men have more than enough bread, but I am dying here with hunger!  ‘I will get up and go to my father, and will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in your sight; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me as one of your hired men.”‘ So he got up and came to his father.”  (Luke 15:17-20 NASB)

So, when did the younger brother, the one having wasted his share of the inheritance on wild living, actually repent?  Was it when he “came to his senses”, when he determined to return to his father, or when he actually got up and headed back?  The tax collectors and sinners crowded to Jesus to hear Him.  Had they repented or was this definition of repentance for them as well as the Pharisees to whom Jesus responds?

Jesus begins His ministry crying out “Repent! For the Kingdom of God is near!”  He sends His disciples out on two separate occasions, and their message is the same.  And yet, as one of my friends who comments on these entries at times points out, Jesus healed people regardless of whether they demonstrate repentance or not.  In fact in both instances of sending out His disciples, they too heal and cast out demons regardless of the repentant response.

So repentance can’t be the dividing line between the activity of God in the lives of people.  It can only be seen as the dividing line between those who determine to live like Jesus and those who simply want to hear and be entertained.  Jesus relied on proximity to proclaim His message of repentance.  So if people came to be entertained, He used their proximity to announce a radical paradigm shift.  Some took Him up on His offer, but most did not.  Either way many were healed, had demons cast out, and were fed.  In the process they had at least heard God calls us to a different life.

Here’s one of the sad ironies about this view of Jesus: If someone claims to have accepted Jesus’ radical paradigm shift and then refuses to be around the “sinners and tax collectors” of our day, then they’ve adopted the wrong paradigm.  Over the centuries since Jesus said these words, walked these places, and did these things, many competing paradigms have emerged.  They claim to be the world view of Jesus, His direct apostolic anointing, and so on.  Unfortunately they bear only passing resemblance to Jesus’ life.  Claim what you like, only the paradigm that matches the life of Jesus is the paradigm of a disciple.  If we going to focus on making disciples, then we to be very careful to adopt the right paradigm.

So, perhaps only disciples are saved, and the process of salvation can be said to be repentance.  But if so, then the result in a persons life should include proximity to sinners, ministry including the miraculous in their lives, and a call for them to repent.  So whether the “sinners” are found on Wall Street or in Battery Park, the need for proximity remains, as does the work, as does the call to repentance.

So, that’s my two cents, to borrow from my friends comment from yesterday.  What do you learn from Jesus’ description of repentance?