New Thoughts (03/13/10-03/19/10)
If I can find one unifying thread through this episode, it is that thread of how we ought to respond to Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God. In fairness, there are other points one could draw from the event. One could turn to it as the basis for an exposition on miraculous healing, or on the power of faith. But, the matter of a right response to God in Christ seems far more important to me. That being said, as I look at the things I have gathered out of my preparatory notes, they feel rather disjunct, a series of vignettes illustrating the theme from different points. So, I suppose I shall just handle them in order of appearance.
To begin with, there is that cry of the ten, which I have chosen as the key verse for this passage. As a key verse, it may seem something of an odd selection to make. However, it just speaks to me of something I need to remember as regards my own condition. I am not speaking of some health condition. I am speaking of the place of spiritual need that continues to be my lot. No, it is not that I find grounds to doubt my salvation. That question is settled long since. But, in spite of the certain and assured reality of salvation, there remains the unfinished business of the present. What was it that R.C. Sproul labeled it? The now and the not yet? I am now secure in salvation, but I am not yet enjoying the full reality of sanctification. I am yet in deep and abiding need for the continued experience of Jesus’ mercy.
To put it differently, I have not yet arrived. I am not at the finish line. I am not even particularly advanced along the way, as much as I might like to think so or to appear so. This is not spoken from discouragement or despair. It is a frank admission to the facts of the case. My temper remains short, as I made clear only yesterday. My pride is yet swollen like a mountain stream in springtime. My capacity for being distracted by the things and cares of this world is in many ways worse than it was some years ago. I am full of critique and woefully thin on compassion. So, really, what course is there for me but to stand as these ten stand, and look to my King crying, “Jesus! Master! Have mercy on me!”
What cause have I to suppose He shall answer such a cry? Why, there is assuredly nothing in me to prompt His activity on my behalf. And yet, if I may jump to the ultimate conclusion of these things for a moment, I have a sure and certain faith that He shall indeed. For, I know He is able, and He has often enough made clear that He is willing. Indeed, I should go so far as to say He is determined to see it so. He is determined to bring me to the place of being as I was intended to be. He is also determined that this shall come about in such fashion as leaves me no cause and no room to boast. Ever and always the truth shall ring out in my case that, “by My own right arm, I shall do it!” Yes, none of Jeff in that, all of Christ. So He has determined it should be and so it shall be, and not just for this poor man, but for all who are found in His household in that last day.
Having determined that He will answer my cry in His goodness, I might consider what sort of answer I can expect of Him. I could borrow the well-worn phrase, “expect the unexpected.” That would likely describe the case in short. More to the point, though, I can expect that what I hear from my Jesus will reflect and confirm what I read in the Scriptures. It may not have a lot of flash to it. If I am busily looking about me for the grand display of signs and wonders I may well completely miss what He says to me. Look at the case we are given here. All He has to say to these ten men is, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” That’s it! There’s no great prayer. There’s no waving of hands, no ritual of any sort. There is only the command to do as the Scriptures require for such a case as theirs.
Perhaps it is a test. After all, the command is a definite shorthand for the whole Scriptural treatment on cleansing the leper. But, what Jesus indicates is the first step in that process. The recovered leper is to go seek out the priest, and then the priest will inspect that one outside the camp to confirm his recovery (Lev 14:2-3). It is interesting to note that this is to be done “in the day of his cleansing.” It’s not something to wait around on. Act on that very day! Well, honestly, I don’t suppose somebody who’d been dealing with leprosy would be likely to wait anyway, but the point is made.
That point is made when Jesus issues His command, too. By telling them to go to the priests, He is as much as saying, “this is the day of your cleansing.” But, He is leaving it to those ten to recognize His meaning, and to act on it in obedience and faith. This brings us to another aspect of how our Lord answers the prayer of mercy. He requires, quite often, that we act upon the desired answer before that answer is visible to us.
These ten men had no reason in their flesh, nothing presented to their senses, that would suggest they had cause to go visit the priests. Nothing had changed. Nor had any motion on the part of Jesus given them reason to suppose that anything had been done for them. Yet, they are commanded to go, and such is the authority of this one they have called, “Master,” that they go. Whatever else they may err in, they have done well in this. They asked no question. They offered no debate. They heard, and they obeyed. Would that I did so well!
Well, here is a spot where the Charismatic movement certainly seems to have the right of things. We are often required to act as though the thing for which we are awaiting God’s intervention has already come to pass. Look at these guys. They weren’t told to wait until their skin cleared up and then go. Just go. Trust Me. That’s really the key factor. Trust Me. It’s not about rituals and methods. It’s not about saying the right thing or making the right gesticulations. It’s about one simple thing. When God says it, that’s it. If we really accept that His word does not return to Him without accomplishing His will, and that His will is constantly and consistently for the good of those who are in His purpose (that’s us), then we have no reason and no right to question His directions.
If you have spent any time at all in reading the record of God’s heroes, it must surely be clear to you that what God directs does not always or even often seem sensible to man. Send the worship team out at the head of the army. That’ll thwart their artillery! Just march around the city seven times in silence and then yell. Send out that young kid with the slingshot. He’ll deal with the giant on their side just fine. What sort of instructions are these? Or, how about Naaman? Go wash in that river over there, the muddy one. Nope. No other river will do the trick. It’s got to be that one. Is it really any wonder he was a bit incredulous? It’s not like he hadn’t bathed before. Or how about the whack-a-rock instructions given to Moses in order that the thousands following him about the desert might have a drink of water?
The sum of it is: whether the command makes sense or not, it is a command, and it is a command issued by the Most High God. Let’s face it! He’s omniscient. He probably has a better sense of what’s happening than we do. And yet, it’s our inclination to question His judgment. Like Moses, we’re ready to humble ourselves in that particular sense of, “Boy, I really don’t think I’m the right guy for that mission. Maybe you meant my brother?” Of course, we know that this isn’t really humility talking. It’s fear. It’s the “Not me!” syndrome.
You know, if the church asked for volunteers, and raising your hand meant “not me!” there’d be no problem getting a hand count. “Who is willing that somebody else should go out street evangelizing?” Bing! Plenty of hands! “Who wants so and so (who’s conveniently not here today) to be out helping the poor, running the soup kitchens and so on?” Again, expect unanimous consent on that one! But, get to, “Who can be here to help set up for Friday’s outreach?” Suddenly, everybody’s busy.
Now, I’ll be honest. I do not consider the church’s programs as being on the level of God’s command. But, the point is similar. When God speaks, we are entirely too ready to make excuses. No, God. Honestly, how can we even think in those terms? No God? No, my Creator? No, Thou all-Powerful Ruler of the heavens and of the earth. I’ll not be doing as You command? How can our brains even travel such paths? And yet, they do. We may be a bit more circumspect about it, even in our thinking, but that doesn’t change the sense of the matter. No, God, not just now. Maybe tomorrow I could go witness. Maybe the next time I’ll tell them about You. But, right now I’ve got other things I need to deal with. I’m not ready. I’m not clean yet. Give me a minute, I can come up with plenty of other reasons why I shouldn’t do as You command. And yet, come Sunday, we’ll pray it again: “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” How dare we?
Holy Lord Jesus, if there is one thing I need to seek Your forgiveness and Your assistance in, this is surely it. How often I have prayed those very words, and prayed them conscious of the implications, and yet: have I done Your will as it is in heaven? I know I have not. I have been headstrong and pursued my own course. I have been fearful and refused. In too many ways on too many occasions I have done not Your will but mine. Yet, this is not my desire. My desire is to be wholly in Your service, wholly at Your command. Though my flesh rebels even as I type this, I know it is truth. So, come, sweet Lord, and have Thine own way in me. Speak, for Your servant listens. And, Lord? According to Thy Word, let it be so, that You are both willing and working within me that I may come to that place of obedience.
We read, now, that these ten who obeyed the command of Jesus found that as they did so the disease was removed from them. They were cleansed. They were cured. The meaning is much the same. Having obeyed in spite of the lack of signs, the lack of evidence, they discover that they will indeed arrive as evidence before the priests. The whole point of this passage comes to a head, though, when one and only one of these ten men, having recognized what has happened, turns back. He turns back for one reason, and one reason only: to glorify God loudly!
While I have found it tempting to suppose that this man, by turning back, has become disobedient, the truth is that we are only seeing a brief moment of the way things transpired. We are not told what he did when Jesus had finished speaking with him. When he was told to ‘go your way,’ perhaps his way was back to the priests. We don’t know. Perhaps in that final instruction Jesus had decided that nine was enough for the priests, and this one had already testified. It’s just not a piece of the picture we are given. So, let me turn back to the piece that is shown.
He glorifies God. He recognizes God with honor and praise. He declares the importance of God that God might be honored. He seeks by the loud display of his changed circumstance to cause God’s dignity and worth to be evident and acknowledged. These are some of the varied definitions provided for the words ‘give glory’. We could debate, were we so inclined, whether this is done within the community of believers or without. There is a part of me that would prefer to say within, for then I have my excuse. After all, it is arguable that all of Israel was, for all intents and purposes, the community of believers. To put it a bit differently, it’s much easier to speak of God in the public square when you are certain that the majority of folks out there are believers such as yourself. It becomes far more difficult when prevailing opinion is counter to your stand, and perhaps even hostile to your stance.
This, of course, is no excuse. It is but a statement of the realities we find ourselves in. Indeed, it could be argued that the nine who continued would be testifying in more hostile surroundings by going to the priests. But, this avoids the point of the passage.
The point is that this one has chosen the better course. In his way, he reflects the contrast of Mary and Martha that is so familiar to us. Martha is busy about the work of her ministry. She is doing. She is providing. She is all about service, and surely there’s nothing wrong with that. But, Mary is attentive to her Lord. She basks in His presence, hangs on His words, meditates on His message. One might say that Martha is focused on doing for God, while Mary is focused on what God is doing. This one who turned back is like Mary in that regard. He is so excited by what God is doing that he wants one and all to know. He has recognized in his own changed circumstance the utter magnificence of the God Who can achieve such change.
Having recognized this, he wants that everybody else should also recognize it. Look at this God we serve! See, O Israel, that your God has not abandoned you. He has not changed. He is still here with you, and He is still proving Himself mighty on your behalf! Look! I stand before you the very evidence in the flesh of the greatness of our God. How can you be silent, seeing what He has just done? No! But, He is worthy! He is worthy of every praise! And, people, don’t you understand? This One Who stands in your midst? He is Messiah, yes! But, He is not just the next in a line of Jewish heroes. He is very God of very God, worthy of every praise that you direct towards heaven, for indeed He and the Father are One.
How do I arrive at this conclusion? Quite simply, I see the culmination of his rejoicing in verse 16. He fell on his face before Jesus. Alternatively, we might say he prostrated himself, or, with a bit more of a Middle Eastern flavor, he made the sa’alom. This is an act of worship, and no right thinking Jew would have done such a thing for any mere mortal. Neither, I should point out, would any right thinking man of God accept such honor, except he were God Himself. No angel of heaven ever accepted such honor from man. None of the apostles would accept it. They knew that such worship could have only one proper recipient, and that was God. As such, I conclude that for this man to do as he did, he must have realized with Whom he was dealing, and by His actions, Jesus confirms what he has concluded. There is no insult to God in his actions, because he has acted unto God.
It is only with this demonstration concluded that Luke gives us the news that this man was a Samaritan. He was, if you will, doubly outside the camp. He was unclean in his flesh and unclean in his spirit, so far as official dogma was concerned. Doubly outcast, and yet, as Jesus notes, it is this one alone who responds properly to the touch of God.
How easy it would be to tut-tut this situation, particularly after hearing Jesus complain of it. Only this foreigner? None of Israel thought to honor God for what has transpired? Indeed! Even My disciples seem to be lacking in this regard. Perhaps they are just overawed. Or, perhaps familiarity has made them lest impressed by God’s ways. I have to ask, is such a thing even possible? If it is truly God moving amongst us and we are truly His children, is it really possible that we should find ourselves feeling somewhat jaded? Is it really possible to respond to a true touch of heaven with a feeling not much beyond, “oh, that again”?
Were I to judge by my own reactions, I might have to conclude that yes, it is. Were I to judge by the congregation around me, I might have to conclude that yes, it is. And, I suppose the example we have from the apostles might lend some credence to the claim. Yet, I am forced to note that much of what passes for God’s move in our midst is of far less conclusive a nature than we are witnessing in this passage. I for one have never been witness to a leper being healed right before my eyes, or to a limb regrown right there before the altar, or to a man resurrected. Oh, one hears reports, but it always seems to be elsewhere, always in a faraway land where the cameras and recorders seem to have failed to catch the event. Now, as the resident soundman in our own church, I know it’s entirely possible that these failures are legitimate. The technology has an uncanny habit of being unready for the critical moment. But, after awhile, one has to begin to wonder. If God is no respecter of persons, how is it that we who put so much weight on the miraculous have yet to actually witness it?
Oh, we have our little miracles, the things we point to and talk of how God moved in this service, and how we were touched in that. Why, we’ve been slain in the spirit, moved to uncontrollable dancing, felt that electrical shock. We’ve felt the power greater than ourselves in myriad ways. But this? Not I. I’ve not seen it. I’ve seen a lot of claims made, but nothing undeniable. Hmm. I seem to have been sidetracked by this thought. Let me return to my point.
None was found to give glory to God except the outsider. If I might translate that for our own time: It’s always the new converts who manifest that great zeal for worship. But, something seems to happen over the course of the years. I recall that as a new believer I was quite aware of the rather more subdued ways of my elders, and swore that not I! I would never lose this excitement I was feeling in the first weeks. Of course, I was wrong. I am not so very different from everybody else after all. It seems to be the more common experience of man as believer that we begin to cool over time, even as we hear Jesus admonishing us to return to our first love. We want to, don’t get me wrong. We want to. But, we find it impossible to do. The return is not in us. This should hardly shock us, for the original arrival was not in us, either. It was He who drew us, and if those coals are to be reignited, it will doubtless be He who fans them to flame.
The issue here is not obedience. The other nine obeyed. I would even say that the issue was not faith, as we tend to think of faith. If we are thinking in terms of ‘moving out in faith’ we are likely thinking about those times when we must take action based on God’s promises in spite of the evidence of our current circumstances. We think of these things in terms of, “If God says I’m healed then I’m healed however much it may seem my disease is still upon me.” This is not necessarily a bad thing, indeed, if it is truly as God has said, then it is the proper response. This is exactly where these ten found themselves at the outset. They began to move in obedience to the instructions delivered by Jesus in spite of having no evidence in themselves that there would be any point to their showing themselves to the priests. The promise was inherent in the command, and they heeded the command in hope of the promise. Was this faith? Of a sort, but it is more to do with the wishful sort of hope more common to man’s experience.
Faith, you see, is more than wishful thinking, as Christian hope is never a case of maybe so, but always a certainty. It is a certain hope. And, faith, rightly understood is rooted in knowledge. Faith is never blind, but is established on the firm foundation of knowledge and experience. It is that firm foundation which gives faith its confidence. Thus, the man of faith, hearing a command such as this one, heads out for the priests knowing that the leprosy will have been dealt with before he reaches his destination. I tell you this: If it is better to obey than it is to sacrifice, it is better to believe than to obey. Of course, belief lends itself to obedience, although the weakness of the flesh may spoil the effort. But, faith trumps obedience. Demons obey, but not from faith. They obey from fear, yes, and from necessity. They are compelled to obey.
So, how is it that Jesus tells this one man that he was healed by his faith? Were the other nine not healed as well? They were. At least that is the very strong implication of the text. It is not a lack of healing that has prevented them from returning. What then? Are we to suppose that Jesus withdrew the healing from those nine who did not return to worship Him? I think not. He is no man that He should repent of His actions. If I might, let me turn one more question: Is faith a power in itself, that it can accomplish these things? Again, I think not. The power is God. Neither is there any particular enabling feature to faith by which its absence might prevent God from acting. God will do as He will do. It may well be that in His purpose, He is determined not to take action among the unfaithful, at least as the general rule. But, it is not as though the absence of faith leaves Him no means by which to act.
Again, I would have to suppose a degree of faith in all ten who went at Jesus’ command. At a minimum, there was sufficient faith to believe He would do the cleansing that was implicit in His command. There is not, then, a lack of faith in those nine, nor is there a lack of healing. Honestly, I think the words Jesus speaks to this last one of the ten are not intended to indicate that he alone had faith. I think they are meant more on the lines of indicating that nothing further is required of him. He need not go to the priests at this point, for a higher authority has already declared him clean, and he has acknowledged that authority.
What truly sets this man apart from the others is the thankfulness expressed in his return. None of the ten could possibly have failed to note the cleansing they had experienced. I suppose it’s possible that the other nine did not sense God’s hand in it, and just figured Jesus to be another exorcist or magician of some sort. But, I rather doubt that this was the case. I think they knew full well Who had healed them. Perhaps they were merely determined to obey Him to the letter, sensing Who He is. Perhaps they are a bit fearful that if they don’t fully comply with His command, He might return them to their previous condition. Honestly, I cannot doubt but they were thankful, as well. But, for whatever cause, they failed to express it as this one had done.
As for him, his thankfulness knows no bounds. He is so overjoyed at this healing that he gives no thought to public opinion. Like David dancing before the Lord when the ark came home to Jerusalem, he is pleased to make a scene on behalf of God. But, notice this: He is not in any way seeking to draw attention to himself. He is seeking to draw attention to God. Look what the Lord has done! See that our God has not abandoned us! Oh! Thanks be to God, He has not forgotten us here! He has not been taken unawares. He has not turned His back on us. He is here! Hallelujah!
Considering his reaction, I have to ask myself what it will take for me to arrive at that same abandoned thankfulness? What will it take for me to bow down as he has bowed down? Is the problem that the things I experience from God are not on such as scale? Am I, like so many, waiting for the complete healing of some loved one, until which time I am determined that God has dealt unfairly with me? I don’t think that’s the case, but perhaps it is. Perhaps the failures of life have me looking for somebody besides myself to blame. Or perhaps I have just begun to take my God for granted. Truthfully, I think this is much more the case.
I will admit that there are things in my life that I would prefer were not part of my lot. There are trials that never seem to end, illnesses that do not go away. I could certainly come up with sufficient cause (in my opinion anyway) to start asking God what the big idea is. But, then of course there’s Job to remind me that my problems aren’t much at all, are they? No. More of the issue for me, and for the church in general, is that we have become so accustomed to God’s provision for us that we don’t really give it any thought anymore. After all, when there’s always food on the table and money in the bank, what’s to get excited about when it’s there again? Why should I thank Him for it? I did it. I labored for the money. I paid for the food. Look, I know better than to think this way. If I were to be expressing my views I should never admit to such thinking. But, it’s there. Whether we express it or not, it’s there. It’s there in our behavior. It’s there in our lack of thankfulness.
If we really considered the marvel of that consistent food supply, we should find our food growing cold as we poured out thanks to God for this great boon. But, instead, we are more inclined to be like the Hebrews in the desert, complaining because there’s a lack of variety in our provisions. Rather than thankfulness for the fact that we still have more than enough with which to clothe ourselves, we complain because it’s not the latest style, or simply that we’ve had them too long. We are in a near constant state of envy, even when there’s nothing to envy. And, envy destroys thankfulness.
I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that connection before. Envy destroys thankfulness. How can we be thankful for what has been given to us when we’re busy whining about not having what he got? Oh! My soul pay heed to this! Thou shalt not envy. Can I tell you why that is such a terrible sin as to be put counted in the ten? Envy rejects God’s character. Envy denies that His provision is not only good, but perfect. Envy declares it false when Scripture tells us that He is working all things for our good (Ro 8:28). Envy cries out, “You lie!” when it hears that every good and perfect gift comes from God (Jas 1:17). Envy says that God is not good enough.
Thankfulness, on the other hand, recognizes that what we receive from this marvelous God of all creation is not payment for services rendered. I find no cause for rejoicing when my paycheck hits the bank. It is my due. The only thankfulness there is that the company is still sufficiently solvent to see it deposited. But, when a gift is bestowed upon me; when something is given for the shear pleasure of giving: Therein lies cause for thankfulness. Wow! You thought that well of me that you wanted to give me this! Or, you saw my need and you gave to fill that need. How can I ever thank you enough? And, that last thought draws me back to my real status before my God and King.
You thought well enough of me to provide. You saw my need, and You gave to fill that need! How, indeed, can I ever thank You enough, Lord? How can I lose sight of this? How can I walk through a day without finding time to rejoice that You have looked upon me with such kindness? Oh, my God! Thank You! That You continue to provide for me, even when I lose sight of Your hand in it all: Thank You! That You continue to watch over not only me, but my family: Thank You! That You have made a place for me in Your own household, adopted me as Your own, saved me from myself, fed me day by day, kept me breathing, kept me sane, given me even these material pleasures that surround me: Thank You! That You have caused me to be surrounded by those who love me and those whom I love: Thank You! That You have trusted me to expound upon Your Scriptures: Thank You! That You are God: Thank You! Oh, may there be no lack in my thankfulness today. No! Nor into the weeks ahead!
