New Thoughts (6/10/07-6/21/07)
Well, there’s certainly a great meal for our thought processes in this passage! I feel as though I may be eating from this banquet for weeks. As a start, I suppose I should make clear that my locating of this portion of the Gospels immediately after the Sermon by the Sea is an arbitrary thing. I note that the preceding sermon was delivered by the Sea of Galilee, and I see that the transition into the present scene is given by the call to cross over that sea to the other side. It is a tenuous connection, but I will follow it anyway. It is of some interest that we have this scribe coming to become a disciple on the heals of hearing Jesus speak of the scribe who becomes a disciple at the end of the aforementioned sermon, but it is as circumstantial as my connecting these two passages in the order I have used.
Symbolic or Simple? (6/10/07)
One question that arose yesterday is whether the reply Jesus gives to that scribe is intended to be taken at simplest face value or in a more symbolic sense. On the face of it, the statement is no more than a picturesque way of saying, “I’m homeless.” As such, the message is plain enough, certainly: If you intend to follow me, understand what that’s going to entail. It’s not going to be profitable as the world measures profits. You will know hardship and exposure. You will be leaving everything behind, because we have no real base of operations. We go where we go and when we go. If you are truly prepared to sign on for such a life, then fine. Welcome aboard. But, if you are not, then rethink your excitement before you come with Me.
That said, foxes certainly have their more symbolic significance, as do the birds. Foxes, of course, are the very image of cunning. They have been so in many different cultures. They are the slick tricksters, perfectly capable of stealing your nest egg right out from under your nose. These, Jesus says, have their dens. Even though they cause so much trouble to so many, they have a safe place to retreat to.
Birds, as we saw in the parable of the mustard seed (Mt 13:31-32), are sometimes used as the image of innocent vulnerability. If any are subject to the fox’s predations, the birds are chief amongst them, defenseless by nature, they can only seek to hide away from the likes of the fox, to make their abode in places the fox cannot reach. Jesus points to these as well, and notes that in spite of their vulnerable condition, they are able to find safe places to nest and raise their young.
In both, there is some sense of finding protection. Home is always intended to have that connotation with us: that it is the place where we are safe. Sadly, many can no longer connect with that image, because the life of the home has been so corrupted in our day. But, that sense is still there in Jesus’ words. However crafty or however innocent these creatures may be, they all of them have their safe haven. Not so with the Son of Man. Necessarily, then, this will also not hold true for those who choose to become His disciples. It’s not about finding a place to sleep, but about finding a place of safety.
If I am correct in allowing this interpretation of the verse, then we are all of us put on notice here, and the notice is certainly of one accord with other things Jesus warns His disciples of. Follow Me, and you will have tribulations. Follow Me, and you will have persecutions. They hate Me. Therefore, they will hate you, for you are Mine. The world cannot comprehend Messiah, cannot tolerate His presence in their midst. Therefore, the disciple of Messiah will also be hunted and hounded, chased out to the wilderness where they can no longer trouble the conscience of the dying.
It is rather like an immune response gone awry. The system that should protect the body by rejecting the diseased cell has itself become diseased. No longer able to discern health from sickness, it attacks the healthy cells instead, doing irreparable harm to the body it was supposed to protect. Thus does sin work in man, destroying his sense of God and self, blurring his vision until he can no longer discern right from wrong. Indeed, so badly does sin warp the senses that only what is horribly, terribly wrong appears to be right any more. The sound of correction, to such a one, is an intolerable noise. The sight of purity is like a bright light shone in the eyes of one who has been in a dark cave for many long days. It burns. It so shocks and offends that the one who suddenly sees it will do just about anything to put it back out.
This is the impact a real disciple, a true believer will have. He will be a shock and an offense, not because he finds some value in being shocking or offensive. Indeed, it is an almost diametrically opposed problem. It is the very fact that he seeks not to shock, seeks not to offend, that makes him so shocking, so offensive. It is purity that offends the sinful. It is humility that most jangles the nerves of the proud. It is so different as to be nearly incomprehensible to them, and they dare not let it near, lest it spread to them.
This is the life Jesus invites us to: the life of a pariah, universally rejected. The sinner who has chosen his sin will reject you for making his sins so obvious to himself, let alone to others. Those who still think themselves innocent will reject you for taking away their self-deceptions. They are convinced they’re good with God, and who wants to be told they’re wrong in that case? They will not feel the love when you tell them. Indeed, that thin mask of self-righteousness will likely crack and slip off in short order, whether or not they will acknowledge that fact.
If, then, we truly accept the position of disciple to this Teacher, there can be no hiding away. There can be no avoiding the reaction of the world to our choice. By corollary, I must suppose that if we are not experiencing that reaction, we must needs wonder if we have truly been disciples of His. We might also ask ourselves if we have truly understood Who He Is. The title He uses for Himself in answering the scribe is designed to force that question, and to force an answer to the question. “Son of Man” is no innocent turn of phrase. It is a very specific claim to office, one the scribe before Him would not fail to hear.
Son of Man (6/11/07-6/13/07)
That claim finds its beginnings far back in the Old Testament, but takes on stronger significance as it proceeds. For Ezekiel, it was the particular reference by which God called to him and explained Himself. Of course, here, it is “son of man”, for it is still the address of the Superior to an inferior. It is Daniel who saw the foundational image, who first began to make the coming Messiah understood to his compatriots (Dan 7:13-14). He writes that he saw this Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven; saw Him presented before the Ancient of Days. To Him was given dominion, glory and kingdom. Every nation, every tribe, whatever the languages of man, they would all be under that dominion, would all serve Him, and that dominion would be eternal. His kingdom was one which will not be destroyed.
Before I go on with what I thought I was writing, I need to cover something that just began to make itself understood. The Son of Man was expected. He was understood at least enough to know He was a Messiah, a Salvation for Israel. Clearly, given Daniel’s vision, He was God’s appointee, and given the eternal nature of His rule, He would have to be understood as rather more than human. Do you here, then, what Jesus is saying to this scholar of Scripture? The One you have been waiting for, longing for, has looked upon His people, and finds they have no room for Him. The cunning and the sly, they can find a place amongst you. The vulnerable and innocent you will make a place for. But, the Savior? You have no place for Him. He came unto His own, and His own did not acknowledge Him, would not receive Him (Jn 1:11).
That rather changes my sense of this exchange. Let me go back, as well to the imagery of the bird. Remember the bird was also a symbol of intelligence. Is this, then, a true attack on the scribes as a class? What a searing rebuke, if it is! You scribes, you accept tricksters and charlatans to your ranks with open arms, happily loose them upon the innocents in your charge, for they are profitable. You honor the intelligentsia as well, praising the learned men both past and present. Indeed, you give them a greater place in your system than you do God Whom you claim to represent. But, when God’s own anointed eternal King, the very Savior of which you teach comes to you, you want nothing to do with Him. What would we hear in that same situation? How do our own churches and movements stand up? How do our own lives stand up? I know, the only viable answer is “only by the grace of God.” But, I still think these questions worth asking ourselves. It does us no good to tut tut at the examples given for our edification and then ignore the similarities to our own situations. Selah
When Jesus replies to this scribe, it is not only His description of life in His ministry that will bring the scribe up short, it is also His use of this title. There are other occasions in which Jesus lays out this same titular claim when there are representatives of the religious hierarchy present. “I say this so you will understand that the Son of Man is authorized,” and by implication, is currently standing before you (Mt 9:6). Wow! I recall reading a text that spoke of Jesus’ parables as weapons fired against this hierarchy, but these claims, particularly after what He says to the scribe in this current passage, are flaming arrows sent right into the heart of the camp! There could be no question to any reasonable student of Torah as to what claim Jesus makes. “I AM the One in the vision of Daniel. I AM the appointed king over all nations, and My reign has begun.”
Later, Jesus would ask His own disciples who the people understood the Son of Man to be (Mt 16:13-16). Here, again, I begin to wonder if we hear the conversation aright. We, with our full conviction that Jesus surely is the promised Son of Man, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, are instant in connecting the title with the Man. Perhaps His disciples were also as quick to make the connection. On the other hand, Jesus is not asking them what they think; not yet. He asks, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” In all honestly, I have always heard this as, “Who do they say I am?” But, given that He uses this phraseology when the question goes to His disciples, I think we mustn’t make the substitution for Him. It strikes me that He is actually asking what the people understand about this important title. How well had these scribes managed to teach the people? So, the answers come back, and reveal a very limited understanding indeed. They do not understand the true majesty of that office at all. The best they can imagine is the great prophets.
Now the question turns. “But who do you say that I am?” You know, how we sense this question is going to depend entirely on where we place the accent. Is it on the ‘you’ as I have it, or is it on the ‘I’? I suppose it’s rather obvious that I go with the former. After all, these are disciples who have heard that title associated with their Teacher often enough to make the connection. The connection doesn’t need to be stressed. It’s the implication that needs to be stressed. Do they still see Him as no more than a great man? A prophet? A teacher? Simon Peter’s answer clears the concerns away. “You are the Messiah, the Son of Man, and the Son of the living God.” Now, you can look at the text and remind me that Simon does not actually use the term “Son of Man” in answering, but the title is so firmly connected with the term ‘Messiah’ which he does use, that it might as well have been there. His answer shows the superiority of his Teacher.
Seemingly alone amongst the people of God, this school has answered the test question correctly. Indeed, it is the only question on that test: “Who is the Son of Man?” Perhaps the other classes had all majored in Ezekiology, for whichever prophet they choose, it is always a prophet by which they answer. They have all failed. Only the disciple of Jesus comes forward with the proper response: “The Son of Man is the Son of God.” Congratulations, Peter! You’ve passed the test! Now, on to graduate school.
Later, Jesus returns to Daniel’s vision as He speaks to His disciples of things yet to come. “You who have followed Me,” He says, “shall sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes” (Mt 19:28). This is to come at the time when the Son of Man is Himself upon His own most glorious throne. It is to be the time of which Daniel spoke. As Daniel was making the picture of heaven clearer in his message, so Jesus is adding detail to what Daniel has presented. Not only is the Son of Man going to hold dominion over every nation of the earth, but the twelve will have their own places of honor, seated as judges over the twelve tribes of Israel. The numbering of twelve thrones should certainly be our queue that this is not some general promise given to all believers. It is not even for all who were amongst Jesus’ disciples as He spoke this.
There are twelve thrones, for there are twelve Apostles, given to complete the type of the twelve tribes. It is particularly fitting, this office they are given in the kingdom. They who were judged and reviled by the twelve tribes from which they sprung will sit in judgment upon the tribes which rejected them. They who were considered foolish and misled by the twelve tribes would be placed in the office reserved for the wisest and most respectable of men. To have a seat in the gates of the city was to have a place of honor in Israel. It was to be in that place where men came seeking wisdom, advice and justice, to be amongst those from whom men sought these things.
This is also a picture of the life of God’s people being restored to its proper order. There had been a time when the nation of Israel had known that order. In spite of all the nations around them who had human kings ruling over them, Israel had only God as her king. For the men of God, the highest office one might attain to outside the priesthood was that of judge. The judges ruled over Israel, but they ruled under God. Here in the picture Jesus paints of heaven that proper order is restored. The Son of Man sits on His most glorious throne, and the twelve sit upon their lesser thrones of judgment. They are seated, if we look forward to the imagery of the Revelation to John, in the twelve gates which bear the names of the twelve tribes over whom they shall judge. Their honor is wholly vindicated as they serve wholly submitted to the One True Ruler over not only Israel but all the earth. Their authority is limited, bounded by the command of the King, Whose own authority is limitless. This is an image of the shalom of God – everything restored to the way it was intended to be.
Now, as I look at the picture that is emerging here, I would have to say that the twelve upon their thrones are not there to exact revenge. They are not there to condemn. I’m not so sure they’re even there to serve in the capacity of standing trial. That honor, it seems to me, is reserved to the One Who stands as judge over the whole earth. Here, when I consider them seated in the gates of the heavenly city, I see them seated in honor, set in that place to which men seeking wisdom shall come. They are not there to judge, but to impart.
Thank You, Holy Spirit, for having brought me to that section this morning!
Look at that picture John paints (Rv 21:9-27). To each gate, an angel. Recall, that the angel is a messenger of the Gospel, and in that sense, particularly given the image-rich nature of the text, it is entirely likely that we are talking about the twelve Apostles that Jesus has been explaining this very same time to. Those gates, John is shown, will never be closed. They remain open to every one who comes seeking wisdom from Wisdom and His appointed judges. Notice, particularly, that nothing unclean shall ever come into that city, though the gates lay open. To my thinking, the gates are part of that city, so they would appear not to even get that far, never coming before these judges in the gates. It is only the chosen, those washed in the blood of the Lamb with whom the apostles will have to deal. It is not the judgment of one’s worthiness to enter, as we so often see Peter depicted. It is the judgment of dispensing God’s wisdom to those who come seeking it. The gates, after all, are ever open.
On to another scene. Jesus is brought before the currently installed judges of Israel. My what a contrast to that vision we have just been looking into! Where the apostles would dispense God’s wisdom, these judges would not allow God’s interference in their own schemes. Where the apostles would provide righteous counsel, these judges would plot and scheme. So, they have overstepped their authority, having Jesus dragged before them to be convicted on charges they are fully aware (for they have arranged the whole matter) are founded on false testimony. The judge was instructed by God not to rule based on bribes. Apparently, this group felt that only applied to bribes received, not bribes paid out. At any rate, they poked and prodded in their special council, looking for any charge they could make stick without looking as utterly foolish and corrupt as they were. In the end, they turned to the one question for which all pretended to be seeking the answer, but most considered the answer an impossibility.
They demanded He answer whether or not He were the Christ, whether He were the Son of God (Mt 26:63-64). They fully understood, being students of the Scriptures, that to be the One, He must also be the other. Oh, they looked forward to Messiah’s coming. They still do. The only problem is, that if Messiah should announce Himself, they find it necessary to condemn Him for making the claim. That is exactly what they are playing at here. To them, it matters not that He truly is the Messiah. Their warped beliefs cannot accept a real Messiah, only the hope of one.
We are not necessarily so far different. In many ways, we cannot accept a real soon and coming King, only the hope of one. We are excited to know that Jesus will return. We would prefer it, though, if it did not happen just now. We’re not ready. In truth, we would just as soon be in the grave when He comes, as much as we get all excited about the idea of being taken up in the clouds with Him. It’s exciting to think about, but there’s always that fear that goes with it. Our sins are ever too great. There is always that the thing we have not successfully repented of. We have not yet, like Paul, become as dead men to sin, incapable of succumbing to its charms.
Going back to Jesus, He stands before these men who can’t handle the Truth, and being Truth, He speaks truly. “You have said it yourself” He replies. Hmm. Every tongue… “But, let me tell you anyway.” You already know the answer, and you also know it to be true. You don’t really want to hear the answer as truth, nor will you, but nevertheless, though all men be found liars, I AM must be found true. “You will see it. You will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power (for you would think it offensive were I to call Him by His name), and you will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven.” Right there, He has made His claim plain. He is that same Son of Man of whom Daniel wrote, the same Son of Man who must necessarily be Messiah and therefore, must necessarily be the Son of God.
Of course, we know how that went over – much as it would today. Nevertheless, in a time not that long after the judges of Israel heard the Truth and rejected it, another would hear that Truth. He, too, would reject it for a time, but God had other plans for him. He had come to witness a stoning, a stoning intended to preserve the purity of worship in Israel. These upstarts who kept corrupting the ancient faith with all this talk of a Messiah already come must be silenced, so the one they had caught would be killed, an example to all. Yet, as that man suffered the judgment of stoning, he made the most shocking proclamation. Even as he was dying, beaten and bloodied by the stones that had been thrown, he did not revile his tormenters, nor did he accuse them. Like his Master, he asked only that they be forgiven their ignorance. Then, he declared that he could see into heaven as he was passing away. He could see, and what he saw was the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God (Ac 7:56). What he was declaring was that Daniel’s prophecy was fulfilled. What he was declaring was that the Son of Man whom the Sanhedrin had slain was sentenced to death for telling them the truth, that the One they had led away to punishment was Truth, but more importantly, that the One whom they had slain was not only alive, but seated upon His throne.
Wow! He may not have spoken out in judgment against those men, but the vision surely did! Who could hear this and not tremble? Messiah had come, and what had they done? They had killed the very Salvation of Israel. They had done their utmost to destroy the Promise.
Back at the beginning of the story, Jesus is heard speaking to Nathanael. Nathanael had quickly acknowledged Jesus as Messiah the Son of God (Jn 1:49-51), and Jesus by His reply brings Nathanael’s attention to another image of Messiah that perhaps he had overlooked. “Truly,” He says, “you will see the heavens opened, and you will see God’s angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” That is a clear reminder of Jacob’s experience at Bethel, of course. With that, there is the clear meaning that the Son of Man is Jacob’s ladder. More importantly, particularly for us, it is an indication that this Son of Man, the Messiah, is the connection between heaven and earth. He is the conduit of action, if you will. What the Father wills to see accomplished on the earth is done through the Son. It may be that angels are sent as the more immediate means of accomplishing His will, or it may be the Holy Spirit come among men. But, it transpires through the Son, or it does not transpire at all.
Likewise, the proper path for our prayers to rise before the throne of God is through the Son of Man. There is good cause for us to pray ‘in the name of Jesus,’ for it is in and through Him that we have our righteousness in God’s sight. It also seems significant that these angels are spoken of as first ascending and then descending. Now, clearly the angels must come down from heaven before they can return. In fact, when John writes of the significance of Jesus, he reverses the order of these same events. “No other has ascended into heaven except Him who descended: the Son of Man” (Jn 3:13). But, when it comes to these ministering angels, the ascent must come first. What sends the angels up to heaven? Well, if they are messengers, as their title implies, then one might assume they are bearing messages to the King. One might consider that they bear in their hands the prayers of God’s children, their praises and adoration of Him, their petitions to His courts. Then, as He hears the prayers that are thus delivered to Him by the angels and through the Son, He determines His reply. He sends back that reply by the same messengers, except now they bear not only a message but a mission. They have their assignment, and once again, through the Christ, they return to the realms of man to do God’s perfect will.
Now, when John wrote of the Son of Man as the one who ascended into heaven after descending to the earth, he was doubtless aware that at least two men in the historic record had indeed ascended to heaven, and these could not be thought of as having descended from heaven. Surely, Enoch who was no more, and Elijah who was taken up in the chariots of God ascended. Surely, they were not originally denizens of that realm, but were born after the natural order of mankind. There has to be another sense to what John is writing here, which we might perhaps find a hint of in what follows. He writes of the serpent Moses lifted up to end the plague of snakes that punished Israel in the wilderness. That serpent was a sacrifice after its own fashion. It was done at God’s command, and its making required at least some sacrifice of precious metals to go for its forging. More to the point was the purpose behind the serpent. It was done in accord with His will to appease His righteous wrath.
John paints this picture of Jesus fulfilling the same role. The sacrifice of the Christ on the Cross was, as with the serpent on its pole, something that by appearances ought to have been utterly anathema to the people of God. Make an idol? How could they, who had already angered God, think to offer such an affront in addition? Worship this One who was hung upon a tree? Worship the cursed? How could a man of righteousness condone such an action? Yet, both of these things were indeed not only condoned by God, but commanded by Him. It was His decree that the Son should not only die, but die in this specific manner. It was His decree that His people be saved by such scandalous means. It was a test. Granted that issues of idolatry and cursing were issues He Himself proscribed, but would His people recognize that He is Lord over all, and if it is His command to set aside the normal order for His purposes, theirs is to obey.
In this light, then, we read of Jesus as the only One who ascended. It is not that He is the only One who ever reached heaven from this life. Were that the case, we should still be as hopeless as ever we were. No, it is that He ascended as a sweet-smelling sacrifice. He ascended as the Perfect Atonement. He came having accomplished in His flesh what no man before Him had accomplished – perfect, willing obedience to the whole of God’s counsel and command. He came before the Father having fulfilled the Father’s design for man. He came as a Man, truly after God’s own image. He came and established that there could be righteousness in man, and in Him, that righteousness is in man. Wherever man accepts His salvation – not just the offer, but likewise the demands, for it is a covenant – that man is made acceptable before God.
When we read later that the people of Israel were confused by this message, it might be forgiven them. They knew their Torah, at least as it had been taught to them, and they understood that the Torah declared that the Christ, the Son of Man as Daniel had called Him, would remain forever (Jn 12:34). They also recognized the lethal significance of this talk of being lifted up. They didn’t mistake it as some new turn of phrase about His becoming famous. They recognized that death was implied in that lifting up. What, after all, did Israel lift up, except the sacrifice? Well, who among them had ever found the sacrifice remaining forever after it had been offered? No, the way of the sacrifice was to be consumed. It was that consuming of the sacrifice that indicated God’s acceptance of what had been offered. Well, then, how could this be? This man appeared to be claiming that He was the Messiah, but then He was also claiming that He must die, and in a particularly reprehensible fashion. Of course, He had never actually said, “I AM the Messiah”. No, He spoke of this Son of Man. Everybody, though, knew what that really meant. At least they thought they did. But, once again, the reality of God’s ways was not following the expectations of God’s ways.
That serpent on the pole: if it had been a shock to hear of God authorizing an idol at the outset, that shock wore off soon enough. The exception had, in the foolish mind of man, become a new rule. They failed to understand the exceptional nature of the event, and assumed that this idol was to be worshiped forever, in spite of God’s clear instruction regarding idolatry, and in spite of a history of God’s punishment of those who practiced idolatry. To save His people yet again, He had found it necessary to destroy the thing that He had caused to be fashioned to save them before. I wonder if there isn’t a parallel to this in the crucifixion of the Christ? He was sent to save, but unless He was destroyed, would He, too, have become to us of no more worth than an idol? Would Satan have corrupted this intended good as well?
In some respects, there is no reason to wonder, for he has certainly done everything he knows to do to corrupt and destroy the good of the Christ and His church. The Law, we are reminded, is good, but sin corrupted it until it became for us the curse of death. The Christ, if we allow ourselves to be so foolish, could also become a curse of death for us. How can that be? When we begin to fashion Him after our own image. When we worship not the God who Is, but the God we imagine. When we set up our imagined God in His name, and think ourselves saved, has He not become the curse of death for us? When we establish a Church that preaches its own imaginations rather than the pure Word of God, when we accept a Church that is guided by the whims of the world around it, and we still think that we are worshiping in spirit and in truth, has not the great blessing of the Church become a curse of death to us? When we pursue a course such as this, we have begun running headlong towards the cliff with blindfolds on. The end of such foolishness is certain.
Contrast of Response (6/14/07-6/16/07)
Holy Spirit, I am once again amazed and bemused by Your timing. Once again You place before my eyes this morning the very information I needed to better understand the response to that second man. Thank You for your constancy, and for Your timeliness.
By way of explanation, it is my habit to read a different translation of the text I am studying as I begin each day. Methodological sort that I am, I run through them in the same order for each section I study. The only variation is in how many days I may spend considering these new thoughts. Today’s reading came from the New English Translation, which is a fairly recent addition to my resources. I decided to take a look at one of the footnotes to see if I ought to consider this translation for digging up parallel verses. Well, no. On the other hand, the note attending Matthew 8:22 gave some very useful information.
I had been wondering how some translations had arrived at the idea that the request this disciple made was a matter of some lengthy period of time. After all, in our day such matters are usually resolved rather quickly, as the process of decomposition would seem to make rather unavoidable. Well, this footnote points out that the custom of the time would actually require two burials with a year separating the events. The first burial would be akin to what we are shown in the burial of Lazarus and of Jesus. We have looked at this, and perhaps seen so much similarity to the Egyptian method of mummification as to think them the same. But, in reality, the Jewish custom was to allow decomposition to occur over the course of a year or so. When that time was complete, the remains would be disinterred and buried once more in an ossuary.
While the same footnote mentions several other possible ways of understanding this exchange, that explanation in particular does seem to make sense. Yes, there are the spiritual ramifications of Jesus’ answer, and the shock value as well, but neither of those really get to the question of why such a response. Well, let us suppose this disciple’s father had passed away that day, or maybe the day prior. Even with that, he is asking for a year or more to go on about his own business before really pursuing the Teacher. Further, if we are to take Matthew at his word (which we presumably are) then he had already declared as a disciple!
Contrast that even to the attitude of the scribe. The scribe was ready to follow Jesus anywhere, to go through whatever might come to be attached to this Teacher. Whether or not he was still so ready after Jesus pointed out what he was signing on for, we do not know, but he at least understood the commitment of discipleship. This disciple is essentially saying he wants to learn, wants to live the life Jesus offers, but not yet. It is perhaps in light of his already being a declared disciple that Jesus replies, as Luke recounts it, by reminding him of his own commitment as a disciple. “You go and proclaim the kingdom.”
In this exchange, more so than the other two, the contrast is immediate and forceful. From the disciple we hear, “I must go and bury my father.” This, too, is an expression of what was seen as a commitment. It was a commitment brought on by tradition. It was the son’s duty to do this thing. Was it God’s command? Not that I can recall seeing. It was a way in which the society of the time had applied ‘Honor your mother and father’ to life, but it was not necessarily an accurate application. How such traditions stick, though! Even into our own generation, this idea that the sons ought to take responsibility for their parents even through the funeral, perhaps even particularly through the funeral, remains strongly implanted.
Now, however proper this commitment may be, I would note that it was a commitment that was not signed onto by the son. He was born into that commitment. It was not a matter of choice for him. Duty can be like that. However, when he came to be a disciple to Jesus he was absolutely in charge of his choice. Nothing demanded that he do this thing. He could, as so many do, walk away from Jesus. But, he had chosen to take this commitment upon himself, the commitment of the disciple to his teacher. That commitment was a matter of submission to the command of the teacher as well as a willingness to learn from him. It ought to have been near unto unthinkable to contradict what the Teacher taught.
It is true that the disciple has couched his demand in polite phrases. “Permit me to go,” he says. I can easily imagine, from experiences both as a son and as a father, that the tone of that polite introduction might well have conveyed an assumption that his will would be granted in this. If so, his assumption is shown to be wrong. There is a sense of command in that ‘go’. Both the disciple and his Teacher use that same term in much the same form, on the one hand, “I must go”, and on the other, “you must go”. The one is determined to go deal with death and dying. The other is determined to deal with life and living. That is the crux of the response: Let the dead deal with the dead. Your job is life. You are a disciple of Life, so deal with life and the living.
If the dead are in the grave, the time to tell them of the kingdom has passed, hasn’t it? As Paul reminds us in our dealings with sin, dead men can’t respond. They can no longer be honored by your honoring them, either. They are dead. End of story. Well, there’s a bunch of lessons that one could probably draw from that thought, but they are beside the point for the present. The point is simply this: When Jesus commands, delayed obedience is unacceptable.
This is perhaps at its most critical when it comes to that initial gift of salvation. It is a crisis moment, as I have written before. The nature of a crisis demands a response. It is a crisis precisely because there can be no delay. The decision must be made and it must be made now. The Message translates the end of this passage by saying, “You can’t put God’s kingdom off till tomorrow.” Whether that really fits what Jesus is saying in that instance, it is certainly true. God won’t wait until your done with the things of the world. He tells you that you are done with those things in the moment He calls. You are no longer of the world, though you are still in it. Such demands as are strictly the world’s demands are non-binding. Certainly, when the world draws you in the opposite direction from God’s command, they are less than non-binding. They are downright illegal and harmful.
This sense of unacceptable delay is certainly there in the disciple’s request or demand. Quite frankly, his answer sounds horribly familiar. Yes, Lord, I will follow You in a minute. First, let me get this sin out of my system. Yes, Lord, I’ll obey Your command tomorrow. I know this is killing me, but let me go ahead and do it and I’ll come to You in repentance later. We all suffer from this by degree, whether we want to admit it or not. We all have those areas in which we’re stalling for time. The problem for us all is that there will come a time when there is no more time. We run at the risk of hearing that dreadful statement, “You fool. This day it is required of you!” This is why Jesus is so insistent that we live in a state of constant preparedness. He tries and tries to get us to recognize that any moment in which we allow ourselves to turn aside from the Way is a moment in which we are in deadly peril.
We hear it in so many altar calls. You don’t know what will happen when you leave this building. You don’t know if you will make it home, whether you will ever be given another opportunity. That remains just as true for those of us who have already answered the call of Christ. It is just as true when He gives us our directions, be they for a lifetime, a ministry or the moment at hand. When He calls, our proper response is to answer. When He commands, our only legitimate response is to obey.
The last exchange that Luke covers may or may not be looking at this same issue of delay. It strikes me that is has more to do with a confused concept of the chain of command or a sense of dual allegiance. This, too, is rejected. The King assuredly has a greater and more immediate authority over you than family. If one were to go back in American history – and not all that far back – one would find days when the military draft was still actively in place and heavily in use. Well, when the President’s representative came to tell you your number had come up and it was off to basic training for you, you sure didn’t have the option of checking in at home to see if they approved first!
Again, we have to look behind the literal translation for this to be visible. The sense of seeking parental approval for this decision is not necessarily obvious in the man’s wording, yet there is something there which seems to have suggested the idea to at least some translators. The Living Bible, in particular, takes this view of things. “Let me ask permission…”. On the other hand, when I think of some of the leave-takings we see in Scripture, perhaps this is more a matter of delay than of authority. Think of Jacob taking leave of Laban. The celebrations around such a departure could go on for weeks!
What I really wanted to pursue in this section, though, is the contrast in the reaction of the ones we are shown here and the apostles we see called at the start. Matthew had heard the command. “Follow Me!” Jesus had said, and without the least hesitation Matthew got up and followed (Mt 9:9). Philip heard the same command, and immediately went to evangelize his brother (Jn 1:43). Compare that to the responses seen here. The first is suggesting that maybe in a year or so he’ll be along, the second also looks for a delay, if not such a long one.
Compare this behavior to an even older example (1Ki 19:19-21). Elijah comes across Elisha, who is in the midst of plowing. Twelve pair of oxen are pulling his plow. I might suppose from this that the ground was particularly difficult to break up. I might also suggest that the numbering of the pairs is of significance to the story, else the author would not bother to note it. At any rate, Elijah comes to this young man and throws his mantle on him. This may not have been a spoken command, but it was a command nonetheless, and Elisha understood that. Like the last man that we hear talking to Jesus in this passage, Elisha had a request, “Just lest me kiss my parents farewell, and I will follow you.” Elijah’s response cuts Elisha to the quick. He pretty much tells him to forget it. Just go back to your plowing, you’re obviously not the one. Now, Elisha understands that he must make his earnestness clear. He knows he is dealing with the call of God, and the proper response is instant obedience. He has already failed of that, so he offers a sacrifice of two oxen – these taken from his own plow team, and offered over a fire that burned their own harness. He gave this sacrifice ‘to the people’ (although who those people were isn’t entirely clear to me), and then followed Elijah “and ministered to him”.
Well, there is an example of discipleship! There is a good deal to learn from it. First, I see Elisha recognizes something about teachers that we might perhaps forget ourselves: To be a teacher in God’s economy requires more than just a glib tongue and familiarity with the material. To be a teacher in the Church is to serve in an office of equal worth to that of the pastor, the prophet or the evangelist. It truly is an office of the Church, and as such there is a much more important requirement for service than anything that will be found in man. A teacher, if he is a teacher in truth, will have a gift – a particular, special assistance from the Holy Spirit, and it is this which empowers him to discharge the duties of office.
Elijah is, of course, a prophet. However, if Elisha is to follow him, he must also be operating as a teacher, at least to this one man. Elisha recognizes that the teacher who is fit to be followed is a teacher who bears this gift given by the Spirit of God. It is, therefore, a holy occasion to be called to follow and serve such a one. It is to be touched by that same Holy Spirit, and Elisha responds in the only appropriate fashion. He sacrifices. He sacrifices from his own goods and his own livelihood. Indeed, he sacrifices in such a way as to break himself from any further connection with that livelihood. He had, after all, another ten oxen who could continue the plowing, but he has burned not only the pair of oxen, but also their harness. He cannot replace them and continue. He has broken with his past, and is now moving forward.
Clearly, Jesus has this episode in mind in replying to the last stalling man. Clearly, given Elisha’s example, there is still a place for this man in His class if he is in earnest. So, He points that man in the right direction. “Nobody who is plowing while looking backwards is fit for the kingdom.” There had been another before from whom this man could take his example. He had been plowing, and had even answered his call in similar fashion. But, when he saw that a full breaking off of the old was required, he broke it off. There is an unsaid, “what about you?” that hangs off the end of that conversation.
The other thing to learn from Elisha is what it means to be a disciple. Clearly, a disciple is expected to follow. It is right there in the call. “Follow Me.” What does that mean, though? Does it simply mean to go trudging along behind Him wherever He chooses to go? It certainly includes that, but it doesn’t stop there. Does it mean that we must listen attentively to whatever He is teaching, taking notes as our abilities allow? It certainly includes that, but it doesn’t stop there. To follow is, to enter into a deep fellowship; a fellowship of faith and of life. It is a fellowship that encompasses both outward circumstance and inward character. It is to be “wholly conformed” to the example of the teacher. Whatever He does we do. However He thinks we think. Even if this requires death of us, if that is the example He sets, that is the task we perform.
You can hear that disciple’s commitment in Peter’s talk. “I will follow You, even unto death!” he cries out (Jn 13:37). Standing by the shore after His resurrection, Jesus spoke to a Peter much chastised (Jn 21:15-19). This same Peter who had promised such commitment had walked away when it came to a test. Seeing his failure, he had despaired, had gone back to the life he knew. But, Jesus did not leave him in that state. He sent word, specifically to Peter, to let him know that the death he had failed to share in was not a permanent matter anyway. Jesus was alive. Now, by the shore of the lake, Jesus seeks to restore His disciple. For each denial of Jesus, there is now an acknowledgement and a call back to service. Though Peter’s response to the question of “Do you love Me?” is never as strong as he would like it to have been, it does give evidence of a humility in Peter that might have been missing before. No longer is there the boasting confidence of that earlier claim. He knows he didn’t follow unto death. He is now more honest in his responses. “I don’t love You as much as I ought, but yes, I love You.” Jesus does not reject this. That is not the point of the repetition. In fact, with each reply from Peter, Jesus in essence tells him to get back to work. “Tend My sheep.” The repetition is there both to emphasize the answer, and to counter the previous denials. There is a one for one relationship. All is accounted for. Then, to make sure Peter knows the books are clear, Jesus tells him that he will indeed follow even unto death in his own time.
With all the past settled, Jesus then looks at Peter and says, “Follow Me!” As John recounts the story, it seems Peter hears this only as a call to step away for a more private conversation. In reality, it is the call of a disciple once more. Peter needed that. He needed to know that he was still on the team in spite of his failings. Jesus clears up his misunderstandings before He finishes (Jn 21:22). Peter, for you, this cannot be about anybody else. This is about you and Me, and between you and Me, this is the command: follow Me.
There is another aspect of Elisha’s discipleship that is worth our consideration. He did not only follow Elijah to learn. He ministered to Elijah. Discipleship, then, is not intended to be a one way relationship. How could it be? Fellowship, if it is one way only, is no fellowship at all. The teacher is not called upon to give continually with no return. The disciple is not given permission to sit back and receive without any further requirement. Even the emulation of the teacher’s lifestyle doesn’t satisfy the requirements upon the disciple. The disciple is to minister to the needs of the teacher. It is a small price for such great benefit.
You will see this in the story of the Apostles. When they went through Samaria, it was the disciples who went into town to rustle up some food. The Teacher sat at His ease by the well. When Jesus called for a boat to cross the sea, He did not have to go down to the shore and haggle with the locals for the use of a boat. The disciples took care of that, and they also supplied the power for that boat to cross over. The Teacher sat at His ease. This is not taking advantage of one’s position. It is the right and fitting relationship between teacher and disciple. The teacher teaches and the disciple ministers.
We are still disciples of Jesus, still students under His teaching. As such, we are still called to minister to Him, just as Elisha did for Elijah. To minister to Him is not far removed from being as a servant to Him. The servant, as I recall from another study, would have his eye constantly on his master. He was tuned to the ways of his master, so that he could recognize the least sign from that one, and react to it before even a word was spoken. The lift of a finger, and that servant knows what his master requires, and is already seeing to it. The disciple of Christ is no different. He is a bondservant, in that position by choice. His greatest desire ought to be to see that whatever the Master requires or desires is done immediately. If at all possible, it shall be done before He has to make His wishes known. That is the mark of a disciple that is ready for graduate classes. He will be so familiar with the Master, know His ways and His thinking so intimately, that he will know the Master’s desires and needs without so much as a word or a sign from Him. He can do this because he has striven to come to the place where he can say, “Your ways are my ways and Your thoughts are my thoughts.” Of course, he can never say that in full, but he seeks to approach that place as closely as possible. That is, after all, what discipleship is about: becoming like your teacher. In such a disciple, there is no need for the question, “What would Jesus do?” He already knows, and he is already doing it.
So, coming back to the scene before us, we see one being called to this ministry of discipleship. It is the standard call of the Teacher: “Follow Me!” The only reasonable response is the response of the disciple – drop what you’re doing and follow. Leave it all behind and come to minister to this One as you learn from Him. Instead, this man seeks to serve another – his father. Given opportunity to serve Life, he requests a delay while he continues to serve death. He has heard a call that requires immediate action, but he doesn’t answer it. He doesn’t want to reject it, for he understands what’s at stake, but he doesn’t want to accept the call just now. For, he understands what’s at stake.
Now, before we go wagging our fingers at the shameful behavior of this man, I feel we must look to ourselves. Are we not the same? Have we not heard the call of Christ, and yet where are we today? We are still in our houses, at our jobs; still going about our daily routine almost as if nothing had changed. We still warm our usual spot in the church every Sunday, perhaps on Wednesday. We still come to learn. But, where is the following? Where is the ministering? Face it. When the church calls on us to serve the cause, it feels more like a burden than a blessing, the more so the more often they call.
I know this is so, because I feel it myself. Even this morning, I have battled that very same thought. I know that there are tasks in the house of God that I am particularly suited to accomplish, and have been called upon to do. Those tasks are, in this instance at least, in the service of an outreach to a people that are in desperate need. They are in need of life and hope, both spiritually and in a basic physical sense. Yet, as I think about another Saturday spent and gone before it even starts, I feel put upon. I ought to feel joy at having the privilege of ministering to the desire and need of my Master, but I have to battle through the frustration first. This is not as it ought to be, or perhaps it is. It is training, and my heart is still not right within me. So, my Teacher is continuing the lessons even as I minister to His needs. It just doesn’t feel like ministering. I don’t suppose going to fetch food from town or rowing a boat in storm-tossed seas felt much like ministering either.
No, we still have our ties to this present life – more properly, this present death. We are still caught up in it, firmly planted in it. Very few break the bonds. Very few truly accept the challenge of, “Follow Me!” Most are more like the scribe. We hear that following must necessarily mean leaving behind, and it’s a hard call. As much as we want the benefit of following, it’s hard to let go of what’s already in hand. We have found ways to serve (at least to our own satisfaction) while keeping our hand full. We haven’t let go. We drag all those old possessions along. Yes, we are able to serve in some limited capacity. But, we blind ourselves to the fact that it truly is limited. We rationalize our way through. We are providing for those that follow. Somebody has to fund all these greater works. Somebody has to look after the local body. Those things are true, and we may even be correct in declaring them our personal duty to the Master. I will simply say, that if His call is for something greater, we must be willing to let go of the things that prevent us from following more fully, more intensely.
Lord, I confess I hear this lesson with some concern. I hear it with concern because I know that as a teacher, You are teaching me first. I know that I have a strong tendency to sit and learn without much concerning myself with application in any immediate sense. I know, too, that You do indeed walk me through the things I am learning. It is never just a matter of what I see in these pages, but always seems to come with a workshop. Frankly, what I hear from this is much the same as what You were saying a year ago as I studied the life of Caleb. Repeated lessons, my God, are lessons that need to be attended to. I have seen this in You over the years. You will keep at it until I get it. I’m just not sure at this point that I want to get it, and that is sorrow enough. Father, forgive me for this lack of passion. There are clearly still bonds upon me that hold me back, and I ask that You break them. The heart has grown unhealthy, and I pray that You heal it, give it a passion that befits Your disciple, Your student, Your teacher.
Cost of Discipleship (6/17/07-6/18/07)
In all that Jesus says to these three, there is a constant theme. He is telling them about the cost of discipleship, making certain they understand that cost. While that is most evident in the first case, it is also there in the rest. The disciple who was told that he must forget the funeral arrangements was leaving behind his reputation. Societal norms made it a very important matter for the son to care for his father until all the funereal concerns had been dealt with. The demand of discipleship would require this man to sacrifice good standing in society. The last man would have to sacrifice his place in the home. He would have to give up all other claims to his devotion, even those most natural to man. Discipleship is an expensive proposition.
The cost of discipleship to Jesus is this: If you would declare allegiance to Him, accept Him as your Master, you can have no other. There can be no, “for God and country.” There can be only, “For God.” It is interesting, is it not, to think about the demands Jesus makes of His disciples in light of modern ways of thought? Were He to come with these demands today, He would be marked out as a cult leader. Come to think of it, this is largely what happened to Him then. If He were to come today with demands of allegiance to God alone, governments would denounce Him as a subversive. Come to think of it, this is largely what happened to Him then. Why, then, does it not happen more often? It can only be because the Church no longer heeds the Master as it ought to. We celebrate national holidays with the same reverence as holy days which God has proclaimed. We pledge our allegiance not only to the King of kings, but also to flag and nation.
It is funny, although not in any humorous way, that one reads often enough about the duplicitous nature of the Muslim, who cannot, by the demands of his religion, make any such pledge of allegiance to some national entity, particularly some infidel national entity, with any earnestness. His religion allows him to take that pledge, but only to preserve life. It is not allowed to have meaning for him. Much outcry is raised over this, much wringing of patriotic hands. Yet, the Christian, were he to take his calling as he ought, has no place at all in this pledge of allegiance. Do you realize that this is why they were persecuted by Rome in the first place? They would not pledge allegiance to the Roman throne. They had no king but Jesus, and could not in good conscience acknowledge any other sovereign. That is not to say they would not obey the laws of the land, so long as the law did not run counter to the Law of heaven. That is not to say that they would not behave as any other good citizen of the land would, within that same limitation. But, allegiance means something far greater than obedience or even respect.
If we have truly pledged our allegiance to Jesus, the Son of the Living God, the eternal King of all kings and Lord of all Lords; we have absolutely no business offering allegiance to any other. None. Now, we may grant the right of rule to those who have positions of authority. Indeed, for the most part, we must. We must do so because our true Lord tells us to, not because they have any inherent authority in themselves, whatever their post, but because they have been delegated that authority by the One to Whom we have pledged ourselves. That was the instruction to the Church as Rome sought her destruction. Unless the authority in Rome directly contradicts the Authority of heaven, thereby acting in rebellion against its own Authority, you obey Rome. That is still the instruction to the Church today. I really wonder if we get it. We have become political activists, militant Christians, but I don’t see the template for this in the Word of God. Did Paul instruct the Church to petition Rome for repeal of those laws which legalized practices offensive to the Christian? Not that I can see. Did he tell the Church to raise a protest over every societal ill? Again, I find no evidence of that. No, he instructs us to pray for our leaders, not to petition them. He instructs us to seek to live at peace with all men.
The boundary, it seems to me, lies here: If the law of the land permits a behavior unbefitting to a follower of Christ, then the law of the land has no particular impact on the follower of Christ, and he need not feel any particular need to impact the law of the land. If, on the other hand, the law of the land requires a behavior unbefitting to a follower of Christ, then resistance to said law is not only acceptable, it is mandatory. Such a law proclaims the lawmaker a rebel, an enemy combatant in the eyes of the kingdom of heaven, and such a lawmaker is no longer in a place of authority over heaven’s citizenry.
Does this preclude political action in the hopes of improving society? No, I don’t suppose it does. However, I would suspect that by and large such attempts to improve society by political will are highly unlikely to accomplish their desired end. If politics in the church is more likely to cause trouble than to bring positive change, it is only worse in a society that is largely ignorant of God. The answer in the church has always been to pray for the leadership. Confronting the leadership may be necessary in extreme cases, but I would be fearful to undertake such a course without a rather direct and immediate commission from God to do so. The course that is advised is the course of prayer. My sense of things is that the answer is much the same in the world of government. The better course is prayer. Pray that God will change their hearts and minds, for He is far more likely to than we are.
This does not, by the way, mean we give up on society and its government. It does not mean that we cease being agents for change. It recognizes that the Way of the Cross and its Christ is not through political channels. The Way of the Cross leads always through the heart. His is the ultimate grass roots effort. Indeed, if the grass roots, as we’ve come to call them, are persuaded of His cause, then the governing powers will eventually follow suit. After all, if the populace is restored to faith in Christ, eventually the governing authorities will have to be drawn from that very populace. That was the methodology of the early Church. Change the people, and the people’s leaders must necessarily change with them, given time. And, we are given time.
This is exactly the methods that are in play by the advocates of immorality today. While the apparent focus is on the legislature, the real focus is tucked away out of sight. They have taken to heart the message that winning the hearts and minds of the children will necessarily win the society, because eventually, the society will be composed entirely of those children. That is why we see all manner of social engineering going on in our schools today. It is not about the good of the children. It is for the cause. It is because the disseminators of such thought-shaping policies understand that they can slip past the guard of those who oppose them, go straight to the opposition’s own children, and guarantee the outcome. They learned this from the Prussians, who saw this as the way to ensure an obedient citizenry. Feed them the propaganda before they are old enough to reason for themselves, and one can be reasonably certain that they will never reason for themselves.
The path for the citizen of heaven to influence his society is a path that leads through the society. It does not seek to lord it over society. It seeks to offer an alternative, to set the Truth up on display so that those who see it can contrast and compare it to the lie they have been brought up on. It seeks to manifest the Truth so that those around them can see that there is a better way, and can set their own feet upon that path. They follow Joshua, proclaiming by their life and example, “I have set before you life and death. Choose life.”
This is exactly what Jesus is getting at as He speaks to that disciple. The dead can no longer choose, but you do not serve death. You have no place honoring death. Your purpose is to display life. So, get out there and proclaim the kingdom of the Living God to one and all! Let them know that death is not the only option. Give them a choice, and perhaps, just perhaps, you will have no funeral to tend to.
The bigger picture that I see is that Jesus is not going to accept conversions that are no more than the outbursts of an emotional high. Emotion does not necessitate devotion. Emotions are for a moment. Devotion such as Jesus demands must be a commitment. If we are focused solely on that emotional moment that we tend to equate with conversion, we are likely missing the reality. We are likely over counting our successes. This is not to say that there is no place for emotion in the moment of realization which is our moment of conversion. Of course it’s going to stir up emotions in us. A child’s emotions are pretty well stirred up when his guilt is set before his face. A criminal will often grow emotional when the verdict against him is handed down.
The awakened sinner before God is in much the same place. Guilt has been determined. Whatever attempts there may have been at covering up the sin, these have been stripped away. He stands before the Judge with no further defense. If he did not realize his crimes before, they have been set before him in undeniable array from first to last, and he has heard the due penalty of each one spelled out. His doom is certain, and now he cannot hide away from that fact. Then comes the sinner’s surprise. Somebody has already paid his penalties on his behalf. In spite of the heinous weight of his crimes, the court is pleased to pardon him in full because this other one has already satisfied the demands of justice in his case. Of course the emotions are going to run high! First the dreadful condemnation, then the impossible pardon. Who is not going to where his heart on his sleeve at such a time?
But, what happens when those emotions fade? What happens when the court scene is transformed into a classroom, a classroom from which one never really graduates but just keeps on learning? When the excitement is gone, will the convert be gone as well? When the requirements that this new life places on the convert begin to register, will he stick with the decision made in that emotional moment? Was his allegiance a matter of devotion to this new Lord, or just a matter of fleeting emotional reaction?
The scribe we see in this passage is in that place of emotional high. He has heard wonderful things from this teacher. A devotee of learning, he recognizes how much he can learn from this man. He is also aware of the traditions that hold between disciple and teacher. Jesus, however, points out the extent of those demands of tradition in this case. There is never going to be a time or a place of rest. There is no home base. There are none of the comforts of life to be enjoyed whatsoever. To follow this Teacher is to leave all thoughts of personal comfort and safety behind. Is he still interested?
The second man, already a disciple, seeks a loophole. Let me fulfill my previous pledges. Let me satisfy the demands upon my honor, and then I shall come with You. Jesus points out that the allegiance he has pledged must necessarily supersede any previous commitments. This may well lead to a certain loss of face amongst his peers, and in society, but that is part of the cost of discipleship. What is worth more to you, an honorable reputation before men, or a place in the kingdom of heaven? If you really want to be My disciple, then your honor must be in My hands. Your honor must be found in obeying Me. Are you still prepared to pay the price, or was it just your emotions speaking?
The third man comes with a similar request, although perhaps of shorter duration. He is excited by what he has heard from the Teacher. He senses the call upon his life, but he would first like to be certain his family approves. He is doubtless beyond the age of majority, yet he would know his family’s opinion on the matter, would have his father’s blessing. But, the Teacher declares that even this must be let go if one would be a true disciple. Even this small comfort of approval is denied the disciple. His approval, like his honor and his sustenance will come from the Teacher alone. These things will come from the Father of Lights, the Ancient of Days of Whom the Teacher teaches, or they are worthless and to be disregarded.
What use the approval of man for things which God decries? What use the honor of rebels to the child in the King’s household? What benefit is there in the riches of this life if the debt to the Court of heaven goes unpaid? All is lost except one keeps this in perspective. The lessons the Teacher gives will not avail you in the least of you are still seeking approval, honor and provision in the wrong places. If he is no more than another teacher in our sight, then we are no disciple in His.
To follow Jesus demands more of us than having good study habits. It demands more of us than taking good notes as we are taught. It demands more than cramming for the test. Life is the test. There can be no cramming, for there is no time which is not test time. To follow Jesus demands that we fashion our life upon His. To follow Jesus demands that what He requires of us is our desire. It requires a whole-hearted, undivided attention to the purposes of the Kingdom. As I read in the Living Bible this morning, “Anyone who lets himself be distracted from the work I plan for him is not fit for the Kingdom of God.”
Lord, that theme! Have I become distracted? I know I have. Yet, I come before You repentant, and I ask that You recall my heart and mind to the task. Fit me to my purpose, Holy One. Harness me to Your will, and keep me focused on Your way. This summer promises to be a busy one, as the church sets out its plans. Let there be no grumbling from me, either in heart or in voice, Lord, but give me the peace and strength to do all Your will for me.
Give it All (6/19/07)
I repeatedly find myself drawn back to this matter of things that must be left behind as I read my Master’s words here. It was almost a year ago that I wrote the song “Give it All” while studying Caleb’s life. It was a hard song to write, a hard song to hear, then. It still is. We live in surroundings designed to entice. It’s not that these things are bad, as Charlie Peacock wrote. It’s just that they’re not good enough. And yet they hold us. The house, the car, the television, the computer; whatever it may be in each particular case. These things start out as interests or desires, but once they are obtained, they master us more often than we master them.
The house that we spent so many years dreaming of becomes an immovable anchor. We cannot free ourselves from it once we have it and because of it, we cannot dream of walking away from whatever job we may have. Cars are not much different. We want to look good in our car, so our tendency is to buy beyond what we can truly afford. The salesman and his financiers, who earn their living on a percentage of your promised spending, are more than pleased to encourage you in this. Wherever you may go, the salesmen are more likely than not to show you something just a bit more than you want to spend. They will make it plain to you that the little extra cost is going to be worth it in quality. But, the whole thing’s a trap designed to take your money and bind you further into servitude.
Into this, comes the call to serve the Master. It is in the midst of all these things that we struggle to hear Him, and struggle even harder to obey. When first I heard the question of that song, “What would You do if I said to give it all away?” I could look around me in this back office and count the cost. Nice house, nice yard out back with its birds and animals to keep things interesting; were it myself alone, yeah, I could probably let it all go. With the added emotional weight of a wife, it could probably still be done, for she would probably be more keen on the call than I. Mix in a teen with all the angst of that age, and their attachment to the familiar, though, and the bonds draw a bit more tightly.
On the other hand, there’s the things that fill the house. There’s the hardware of life, if you will. The TV may not have much of a hold for me, but what of this computer? What of the instruments, the books, the music? Could I give it all up and walk away from it? This is a much harder matter. What about the financial security, or at least the illusion of it? What about the fact that I don’t really have to wonder to much about how the bills will get paid; that I don’t fear the next breakdown of an auto will be the breaking of our accounts? Could I walk away from that? I used to live with those uncertainties, but could I face them again?
That’s the harder part of the question, at least for me. One grows used to being able to provide well for his family and himself. One grows used to the freedom to do pretty much whatever one wants to do, at least during the off hours. It is these things with which I am surrounded that give me the incentive to head off to work day after day, to put up with the demand upon my time that takes away from my freedom to do what I want to do. Into this, God asks me again, “What would you do?” Can you still give it all up for Me? Can you still let go, or has the addiction taken too strong a hold on you? I hear the question. Even as a hypothetical, it is really not one I’d care to answer right now.
There are still some, I am sure, who can hear and respond with an enthusiastic positive. Here it is, Lord. Take what You like, so long as You take me with You. Require what You will, so long as I may follow You, learn from You, be like You. But, it’s no light thing. That is really what Jesus is driving at here. Don’t just give Me your excitement, give Me your all. Commit. If you’re going to call Me, “Lord,” then allow Me to command you.
How often do I hear of things that must be left behind? It may be a habit, or it may be an acquaintance. It may be some ‘modern convenience’ that I’ve allowed to rise up as an idol. It could be any number of things. Mostly, it’s been a particular habit that has been my place of disobedience, at least in my own thinking. Yet, if I were to go by feelings (which I dare not, for feelings are a most unreliable guide in any matter), I would say that through these last two weeks the call has sounded far stronger, seemed to be about something much bigger than habits.
The question, whether in matters small or large, is what we do when God says, “Leave that thing behind.” When He tells us that the people we used to hang with are harmful to our health, do we linger anyway, or do we turn away from them? When He tells us that the things that we used to think were perfectly acceptable and rather a lot of fun were actually killing us by slow degrees, do we stop doing them, or do we make excuses? When He tells us that the places we used to go are snares and pits that seek our destruction do we fly from them and forget them, or do we long for the day when we could go to such places with people such as they and do the things we used to do without guilt?
That is the crux of the last words Jesus speaks here. That looking back is not just a matter of poor attention to the task at hand. It’s not just reminiscing of days gone by. It’s a longing. It’s that old desire to go back to Egypt. The path He calls us to is hard. It’s a path of constant sacrifice. Do you know, even as I sit here in this place surrounded by the material blessings of life, it is still a path of constant sacrifice. There are things that must be given up. There are things that I will struggle to give up, but He has told me it must be so, and so I must.
There is the whole mindset, first and foremost. That’s the biggest battle right now. I hear this question: Do you count it all dung? Are you still detached enough from the stuff to follow Me? This is the question I must wrestle with in the here and now. In coming to the place where I can answer as I ought, I must also make certain that I am not imagining my own path to follow and claiming His leadership in that direction. If I am going to follow, it must be where He leads, not where I wander.
Is passion enough, Lord, to announce Your guidance? I cannot believe it is so, for this is to be led by emotions once again. Jesus, I hear that question. I hear a call to something far different, but is it really Your call, or just my reaction to this passage? Is it really Your call, or just my mid-life crisis? You know where my passions lie, for You created them within me. If they are to set my course, though, I will need You to make that particularly clear to me. I will need You, also, to loose the bonds of blessing that hold me to my present course of life. But, Lord, if this is really something You are leading me into rather than something I am trying to convince myself of, by all means lead on, and so work upon me that I can indeed will to do Your will, whether it is what I think it this morning or something utterly different. Work on me, according to Your promise, Holy Spirit. For otherwise, I will surely find myself walking the wrong way to my eternal regret.
What Are You Pursuing? (6/20/07-6/21/07)
The last word we have in Luke’s account of this exchange needs some understanding on our part. We have come to take this matter of looking back a bit more stringently than it is intended. We hear what Jesus is saying, and we take it as indication that every possible connection or recollection of our past is to be removed from us. Now, assuredly there are going to be any number of habits and associations in that past life that will indeed have to be shorn from us. How can the soul expect its longed-after resurrection if it insists on clinging to the body of its death? However, even if we are successful in eliminating every condemned habit, changing every sinful behavior, avoiding every acquaintance who might represent for us the appearance of evil by association, there will remain memories of that time.
I watch people going through all manner of gyrations trying to eliminate those memories, and much of that activity I suspect stems from reading this verse. The simple fact of the matter is that our memories are as much a matter of God’s provision for us as the food and shelter He provides. Our memories are there for a purpose. Apart from that, they are so much an integral part of who we are that to remove them is to remove ourselves. Without the gift of memory, we have no chance of learning, no benefit from our mistakes. The memory erased provides no help to its owner. God has given us memory so that we can improve, can learn, can draw closer to His example.
In fact, in His grace, He maintains in us the memory of what we were like so that we can recognize the progress He achieves in us. Sometimes that change He is working within us is such a gradual thing that we fail to notice it. Unless we have the benefit of remembering ourselves as we were, we would not be aware that we are so different now. Unless we are given the blessing of seeing the difference, we would soon despair of attaining to His plan for us. If all I have is the record of today, or even the record of my actions yesterday, I can see little cause for rejoicing in my Lord. I can see nothing but condemnation and a certain judgment if I acknowledge a righteous God in heaven. If, on the other hand, I compare the me of yesterday with the me of years ago I still see much that deserves condemnation, much that requires change. But, I also see how much has changed already. I see that vestiges of bad habits remain, but they are nothing like they were.
None of this backward vision is condemned by my Jesus. It is, perhaps, a poor translation that leaves us with that understanding. The Greek underlying that word back in its most basic sense certainly means little more than to look to the rearward. This would be problem enough, I admit, for one who is set to the task of plowing. Nobody ever achieved a straight line who wasn’t attending to that purpose. This sense is certainly in keeping with what Jesus is saying. If your attention isn’t on the task you are given in the kingdom, you are not fit for the kingdom.
However, by Jewish usage, that term had taken on more significance, moral significance. It took on the meaning of returning to old habits, habits one had already abandoned. Worse, it spoke of running after one’s lusts, following those old ways as one’s guide. It speaks of being drawn away by admiration for that which the eyes are considering. The plow upon which one’s hands have been placed is set as the symbol for the straight and narrow Way of righteousness. Righteousness is, after all, a matter of being upright, straight, true. Beams will not be laid true without attention being paid to their setting. The line the plow cuts will not be straight unless the plowman’s concentration is on his task. The life of a man will not be upright unless he attends to his character constantly and consistently. Certainly, we will not achieve righteousness if the past is more attractive to us than the Way ahead.
It is one thing to fall into sin. It is another entirely to long after the opportunity to sin. It is one thing to remember our past, perhaps even with some fondness. It is another entirely to seek opportunity to relive it.
To come to the kingdom is to discover two masters, two guides. I have spoken before of the cross as the crossroads. In the daily crisis of faith (and it is a daily crisis) we are constantly come to such crossroads. We are not left blind as we decide the course we ought to take, though. There are ever two guides before us, though they lead in divergent directions. Along one path we find our Shepherd beckoning. Along the other, we see another familiar companion. He, too, invites us to follow, shows us all manner of pleasures and entertainments ahead on the road he advises. They are pleasures and entertainments we know well enough, for they are almost certainly things we have tried before in one fashion or another. Like a hawker on the street, he invites us to recollect those pleasures. Remember how it tasted? How it smelled? Remember the excitement that was there? The thrill of the illicit? You can still have it, he says. It’s all still there. Just come this way.
And, over against this, stands the Shepherd. He does not play such games with us. He allows us our memories of the pleasures, but He also makes certain we recall the pain and the sorrow that came with them. If He hears us sighing about how sweet life was back in the day, He also makes certain we remember the stench of death that was always there, our constant companion. If there is a salesman on the one road selling the disguised wares of death, He will make sure that we recall the truth in that advertising, that we can remain conscious of the contrast. One road leads to life, the other to death. Constantly we must choose.
With that in sight, we can begin to understand the counsel Jesus is giving here. You cannot serve the kingdom of life if all your desire and all your attention is still on the pursuit of death. The Way that leads to life is narrow, Jesus said. Being a narrow path, it would be particularly easy to wander off of it. It proceeds along a straight course, ever leading us to the gates of the kingdom. But, like the plowman whose eyes and thoughts are on cool drinks and sweet companionship back at the house, we cannot maintain that straight line without effort.
Consider what happens to a man walking without a point of reference. We read of it in the case of those lost in the desert, that they will tend to walk a curve rather than a straight line. We need but try walking (preferably in a place free of obstructions and dangers) with our eyes closed for a time to recognize the tendency toward crookedness that is in us. Or, consider your driving. All is well as you watch the road ahead, but look back over your shoulder to see something in the backseat, and you can all but guarantee that when you return your eyes to the front, you will have veered out of your lane in that briefest moment of distraction.
The eyes lead the body. It is natural for our attention to be drawn to what our eyes see. The unspoken question Jesus poses to us is this: What are you looking at? What are you pursuing? Are your eyes on My purpose as I have commanded you, or are you too busy looking at all the ‘fun’ you used to have? Are you so caught up with desire to taste once again the things you left behind that you no longer make any forward progress?
Look. The command here is not that we must dispose of everything we own, renounce friends and family to a person, and cut off every human relationship to fit ourselves to His service. The demands of service are indeed stringent, but the point He is making is one of primary allegiance. It is to be heard alongside the examples He gives of our own bodily functions misleading us. They eye that tempts to sin is better put out than tolerated. The hand that leads us to sin is better cut off than tolerated. To take such matters literally and as a hard and fast rule would soon have us devoid of every limb and every sense, and still we should find it necessary to excise more, for the heart and the mind are worse dangers to us than any other organ. Yet, if we have already removed these lesser offenses, how shall we manage the greater?
If we would but consider, it should be obvious enough that we are not meant to take these teachings so literally. No man should mistake the lesson about his sinful ways as a call to self-mutilation. The thing to cut off is not the hand, but the temptation that it seems incapable of resisting. Likewise these connections to life. Parents are not to be automatically cast off. Only if they are an enticement away from Christ that we find more attractive than He is there an issue there. Family relations are not necessarily cut away, only if they keep us so aware of our old ways that we long to return, or that those old ways have our attention. Vows of poverty are not universally required. It is but an antidote for those whose wealth distracts them from the Way ahead.
The test we must constantly apply to ourselves is the one Paul took. “This is what I do: I forget everything that lies behind, and reach forward to what lies ahead” (Php 3:13). What a marvelous philosophy for life in general, let alone this Christian walk! Again, he is not truly suggesting that the past can be forgotten. The point is that these things have no continuing hold on him. The things I used to do are no longer of interest to me. I remember having done them, but I can’t be bothered with them anymore. The mistakes that I have made in times past? I cannot change what I have done. If there are reparations that ought to be made, I will make them, but I cannot relive the past and correct my course. I can, however, remember that outcome and so avoid making the same mistake again. In short, neither the good times nor the bad that I have been through are going to hold me from going forward.
So many people are held captive not by the desire of things past, but by an unwillingness to step free of the memories of their mistakes. They live as victims of their decisions. Many, presented with the possibility of life with God, will present just such a view of themselves as a reason to deny the possibility. No, my past is too terrible. I have already condemned myself to this course. They cannot see a change of course as even possible at all. They are so set on being the victim of their past that their ears cannot condone any message that points to a different outcome. All the while, there is a Savior standing there, offering to take them out of their victimhood. Yes, He says, you have indeed chosen death over and over again, but that is all behind. Today, there is another chance. Today, you are once again at the crossroads, and the choice – life or death – is before you once more. Today’s choice is today’s. It need not consider what choices you have made all those previous times. If you will but choose life today, I AM can look to clearing your record on all those previous choices. Today’s choice is not about yesterday. It’s about tomorrow.
Now, that instant of breaking free will not be enough to sustain, anymore than the emotional moment of conversion is enough to be certain of salvation. It’s not the matter of a moment, although it begins with a moment. It’s a matter of sustained effort, persistent travel in one direction. It’s a matter of perseverance. Discipleship requires perseverance. Paul tells us to keep the goal firmly in mind. Remember where you’re headed. Remember the prize that God has set at the goal line. If you will focus on your race, stay on that narrow Way as best you are able, heed the call of your Guide when you stray, you will indeed reach that goal. The race, my friend, is not about who gets there first. It’s about who gets there at all. If you cross the finish line, you win, no matter how many cross before or after you. The prize is the same for each who wins through: eternal life, transformed life, life restored to its intended state: free from sin, free from sorrow, free from sickness and the threat of death. The prize is not just citizenship in the kingdom of God, but membership in His own household.
How men in ages past would strive for the hand of the King’s daughter! How women would vie for the desire of the King’s son! Here is the King of all kings offering you a place in His household as His own son, co-heir to all He owns, and He owns all! He makes this offer to whom He wills, for it is His to do with as He wishes. He offers it to you, though you have so often offended Him, though you have so often fought against Him, counseled rebellion against Him. He offers it to you although you have treated Him as if He did not exist, as though His kingdom was already yours. He holds the power of life and death over you, and though you have thumbed your nose at Him lo, these many years, He still holds out the opportunity for full pardon, the opportunity to avoid the mandatory death sentence and enter into life as you’ve never known it. How generous is that? How merciful is that?
God! Although I have known Your forgiveness for some years now, I am still overawed to remember that this is my story. The counsel I have taken in times past, the counsel I have given; always, it seems, at odds with Wisdom. Yet, how wise I thought myself. How I looked to do the things You find so displeasing, and yet You would not allow it. How I kicked against the goads, as You told Paul. How I did all I could to make myself disgusting in Your sight. Yet, You kept me from my worst plans. Yet, You still came looking for me, made Yourself known to me, and spoke to me of Your desire to call me Your son. Who can understand that and not be filled with emotion at the thought? How could I cease to be amazed by You?
Father, there are times when I feel my love grow cool, it’s true. There are times when I am frustrated, angered by the knowledge that You are steering me one way and my flesh another. The old man is yet too quick to take up the reins. I have not yet found the capacity to fully let go the past. I have accounted my habits stronger than Your will, fool that I am. I come in my weakness, seeing that forgiveness once again. I come in my weakness, confessing that I know not how I might change except You change me. I come to You confident that You have indeed begun the change in me and being Faithful and True, You will assuredly complete that change. Oh, but the sorrow in the process! How I wish I could find the will in me to cooperate more fully. Yes, and I shall, for it is You who works in me to shape my will to Your own!
Thank You, my Father! Thank You, my Teacher, my Savior, my Brother and my Friend! Truly, Your mercy knows no bounds towards me. Truly, You have lain my path through pleasant lands. You have blessed be beyond all measure, and yet You pour out Your love. This one thing I would ask of You, Holy One: train me to keep my eyes on Your goal.
Lord, there is still that sense of change upon me; that sense of a need to follow, and yet, I have not seen the way I am to go. If it is but a feeling, but a reaction to bathing in this portion of Your word, then I am sure that will come clear as I move on. If it is more than that, I ask You to make Your purpose clear, at least as to the step You would have me to take. I dread to mistake my opinions or my dreams for Your plan and purpose. I would ask for something by which I might be certain of Your direction lest I stray after my own.
Your servant always, my Lord, however poor.
