New Thoughts (06/13/11-06/18/11)
It seems to me that I enter many of these studies thinking that they will be quick, not much that seems to need commenting upon. Yet, each time, when I come to the point of gathering my thoughts for this part of the exercise, I am surprised to find a wealth of points to discuss. So it is again with this passage. I had figured to have pretty well exhausted the topic in my previous study, but find I have more than enough to occupy my considerations for the week ahead in this not quite parallel account.
That is a matter I should note at the outset, for I am come to this passage in Luke’s gospel record at quite a remove from its setting. Given that I have collected the event here as being of a piece with that effort to entrap Jesus which took place in the final week, one would expect our passage to be from Luke 20 or perhaps 21, as is the case with the other two queries in that entrapment exercise. But, instead, we find ourselves in Luke 10, far earlier in the period of ministry. Looking at the immediately surrounding context, I notice that it is followed by our introduction to Mary and Martha. At any rate, anybody coming upon this study would do well to ask why, if my goal has been to organize along some sort of chronology of events, am I looking at this passage now? Why has it come unmoored from its setting?
The answer is quite simple, really. I erred. When I set out to try and arrive at some sort of harmonizing of the four accounts, the similarity of the question and answer that begin the account led me to suppose that this was indeed coverage of the same event. However, as I began to read the three accounts together (Mt 22:34-40, Mk 12:28-34 being the other two), the differences were clear. The arc of the conversation is different and the role of questioner and answerer reversed. As such, I decided to leave Luke for separate consideration, even though it must now be well out of its proper place in the timeline. Frankly, I find large portions of Luke’s account very difficult to place on that timeline as it seems he was less concerned with chronological sequence than with other matters.
One thing that began to enter my thinking in the last passage, which I find returning in this study is the question or speculation as to that scribe whom we meet in the later passage. Here, we see a scribe asking a rather typical, almost philosophical question at the outset. He is testing Jesus, to be sure, but perhaps with no motive more sinister than professional competitiveness. The answer he receives is something of a rebuke, a challenge. You know the Law quite well, it seems. Now, put it into practice.
Coming to that event in Mark’s Gospel, the scribe seen there is asking a similarly philosophical question, a point upon which scribes would happily debate: what characterizes a great commandment? As Jesus replies, one gets the sense, at least from Mark’s account, that there is not really any hostility between this scribe and our Teacher. Indeed, there is mutual respect of a sort, and Jesus, far from rebuking or condemning the scribe, complements and encourages him.
All of this rather longwinded introduction is to come to this question: Is it just possible that we are meeting the same scribe in both accounts? Could it be that the rather gentle rebuke we hear Jesus supply in this passage bore fruit, such that the man we meet in Mark’s and Matthew’s account is not seeking to destroy Jesus at all, but rather to give Him opportunity to show His true worth? There is no way I can hope to arrive at a definitive answer to this question, but it strikes me as being at least a possibility. It would rather depend upon how the scribe here reacts to what Jesus says.
The first reaction we see in him is nothing we are not familiar enough with in ourselves, the attempted justification, the seeking to look better in our own eyes when the error is pointed out. (I get ahead of myself). But, then there is that parable Jesus provides by way of expansion, and parables are the bread and butter of the rabbis, of the scribes. They are designed to captivate the thoughts of the listener, and to guide those thoughts to a fairly inevitable conclusion. They are designed, then, to force something of a revaluation of one’s views. That is certainly the intention here. Did it work? Did that scribe go away from that event thoroughly offended at being shown his failures, or did he go his way with a determination to act upon this new understanding that had been granted him? I would venture that this depends most thoroughly upon whether God’s grace saw fit to open his ears to the message.
Let us suppose God was thus gracious to this man. Let us suppose that he has really grasped and accepted the point of Jesus’ parable. This, then, is a changed man! This is a man who suddenly sees his world in a completely different light. This may very well be a man who is in that first flush love that we ourselves experienced upon our conversion. Now, imagine that same man coming upon the scene of those Pharisees debating amongst themselves as to what their next gambit ought to be to show up this Jesus fellow. These men are yet his coworkers. That hasn’t changed. But, he has. He hears their intent, is doubtless familiar enough with their ways already. But, he also knows Jesus’ wisdom, sees the superiority of His teaching, as have so many others. He is, we might imagine, something of a stealth agent in the Pharisee ranks now. So, he stands with his question ready. The Pharisees around him have no reason to suspect anything other than that he has some clever trap to spring on Jesus. But, indeed, that trap is set to spring upon the Pharisees instead. When he poses his question, he as good cause to expect the answer Jesus gives, because he already knows full well that Jesus grasps that most important characteristic of God’s commandments as no other has understood.
Let me just stress that all of this must be nothing but speculation and imagination. Yet, it does offer a different perspective by which to view the man. It offers a glimmer of hope that not every wise man is inevitably lost to the kingdom. It offers, if you will, a glimpse of the power of the Gospel which, though foolishness to the wise may yet pierce the wise with that which is truly Wisdom.
As to the twin commandments, those which we heard Jesus proclaim as the most fundamental, utterly critical points of Scripture (Mt 22:40), the lynchpin of the whole matter, and the same which this lawyer utilizes to summarize the Law; the less familiar of the two references might be that pertaining to neighbor. I say it is less familiar not in that we have not heard it with sufficient frequency, but in that the setting in which the command was delivered may be less familiar. We know that the commandment regarding our love for God is prefaced with the great proclamation, “Behold, O Israel, the Lord your God, He is One!” But, what serves as preface to this commandment regarding neighbors?
If I briefly scan the material in Leviticus 19 which leads up to this message, there is a great deal that pertains to how one ought to behave towards one’s neighbors. Indeed, from the opening of the chapter, the focus is largely on the matter of interpersonal relations. These rules are prefaced with the command that you are to be holy because God is holy. Or, perhaps we ought to read that as declaring the outcome for us because of His holiness. At any rate, this fixes the discussion as describing conduct becoming to a holy servant of God. This proceeds to commanding reverence for parents which is, curiously, conjoined with the command to keep the Sabbaths. We move to rejection of idolatry, and some discussion of proper offering of sacrifices, particularly that the meat of the sacrifice is to be consumed either on the day of the sacrifice or the day thereafter, with any remnants burnt on the third day.
Then, beginning in Leviticus 19:9, things turn more to the human plane. Leave some of your proceeds for aiding the destitute and the stranger. Neither steal, cheat, nor lie. Give no false testimony for all testimony claims God as witness. Several other points are made along these lines, culminating in a summation made in verses 17 and 18: You mustn’t hate your fellow countryman. You may reprove him, but don’t incur sin upon yourself on his account. How so? If you take vengeance into your own hands, or if you bear a grudge against any of the sons of your people. Instead, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.
The nature of this lawyerly question, then, reveals much as to how this part of the Law had come to be interpreted, and it would seem that opinion had lodged on the ‘fellow countryman’ clause as the controlling factor. Rather than seeking the broad application, people had sought to narrow it, to discern at just what point they could set aside this constraint and be themselves, as it were. Perception at that time was certainly that the mention of fellow countrymen in that text restricted the ‘neighbor’ application to the same set of people. In other words, your neighbor was your fellow Jew and nobody else. All that Scripture had spoken as to the treatment of the alien in the land went out the window in this case, tossed aside as having no bearing on the matter. Scripture did not, then, serve them as commentary on Scripture, but rather they sought to interpret the text so as to make compliance easier.
As I spoke to our Sunday School class in regard to Jeremiah and his message, so I must speak to myself here. It is insufficient to view the dusty historical setting into which Scripture first sprang. It must be brought forward, made current, applied to our own day and age and, indeed, to our own experiences. We are no less prone to seeking the legal loopholes in God’s commandments than were these lawyers. If anything, we’re probably worse about such things. After all, we have entire faith communities who are convinced that matters of Mosaic Law are wholly inapplicable, that being under grace we are thereby free to dismiss and ignore any sense of law and order imposed by God. This is terrible! God’s Law, at least in its moral perspectives, describe God’s character, and it is this character He seeks in His own people! That’s just exactly the point that was made to them in Leviticus 19:2! You shall be holey, for I am your God and I am holy. You shall reflect Me. Do we not recognize that this aspect of belonging to Him, of being His people, is absolutely unchanged? Nothing in the New Testament ever abrogated this clause. Indeed, it is amplified, magnified, made the more critically important in that we have beheld the promised Son Whom those before us could only trust would come.
I dare say we would not have to look very far at all to discover a like mindset in ourselves. Don’t look at a neighbor. Don’t allow yourself to think of spouse or pew-mate or any other but your own situation. Lawyerly quibbling as to the limits of the law’s demand upon you? Surely you can find it without any great difficulty! I need look no further than such ponderings as whether it is acceptable in God’s sight to read the books I read in spite of those scenes that seem to be an inevitable part of any modern work of fiction. I need not look farther than questions that arise about partaking in pretty much any form of media, given that in all cases the intrusion of sexual innuendo, if not explicit explorations of the same, are all but guaranteed to come about. Why, even our news anymore is permeated with such things as, to borrow Paul’s phrasing, ought not even to be named among us (Eph 5:3). Yet, watch and read I do. And, I tell myself it has no effect on who I am today. As if!
I could as easily consider why it is that when I am reading Scripture or praying at length my mind tends to wander, to derail. One minute I’m contemplating Paul’s words and the next I’m thinking about things ahead of me at work. One minute I’m determined to focus my thoughts on hearing God’s heart, the next I’m daydreaming. Or, I could consider why it is that reading Scripture or praying are hardly activities that spring to mind when I’m wondering what to do with myself. Love to read, but the Bible’s really not my first choice for reading. Rather read some fiction or other. It’s not always so, but it is often so.
What is going on there? Part of it, to be sure, is cultural conditioning. We’ve learned that church is boring, not because it is, but because it is constantly depicted as being that way in the things we read and watch. We’ve been conditioned to be rather distrustful of those who profess an over-strong faith in God in the same way. We think it doesn’t effect us. After all, we’re regular church goers! We read the Bible. We pray. Surely we’re immune to such influences? No, in honesty we are not. We may have more success in countering those influences, but the fact is our media diet influences our perceptions more than we perceive our influences.
Were it not so, we should find no activity more to be desired than to spend our hours in holy contemplation. We should find no opportunity more enticing than to be out speaking to total strangers about our God and Savior. With rare exception, though, this is not our experience, is it? Indeed, the thought of such evangelism likely strikes us with a degree of fear. We might downgrade that to nervousness in our thoughts, but it’s fear nonetheless. Fear of what? Fear of rejection and ridicule, quite frankly. Fear of being taken for one of those people. Well, of course that’s what we’ll be taken for. After all, we are supposed to be one of those people! But, we’ve allowed culture to get inside our heads, and we’ve done little to nothing to chase it back out. Our sense of holy immunity to the effect has left us ineffective when it comes to countermeasures.
Oh, it’s ok for me to watch that. It would be legalism and worse if I demanded otherwise! How can it be legalism if I restrain none other than myself? Besides, we have long since learned to make legalism our excuse for whatever fleshly indulgence it is we have in mind to satisfy. The reality here is that the Holy Spirit is prompting a change for the better, and we are busy making excuses not to listen.
Make it more personal. I am busy making excuses not to listen. That’s what this comes down to. After all, these times of study are not for the purpose of demonstrating how clever my thinking is. They are for the purpose of my own renewal, my own washing in the Word, my own correction and redirection at the hand of the Holy Spirit Who has been granted me as Advocate and Teacher in this life.
And, I have, as I have been typing out these paragraphs, been hearing a point made to myself. I am not a dispassionate consumer of these shows, amused for a moment but otherwise untouched. I cannot read those chapters that publishers seem to insist are necessary to sales, but are ever and always an intrusion into the plot. If I cannot bring myself to skip those portions of the tale, then better to skip the tale entire. It’s not a matter of being prudish, but of being prudent. For the mind and spirit it surely holds more truly than for the body that ‘you are what you eat’! The message I am hearing is that I’ve allowed my diet to become unhealthy. Am I being called to set aside every text and every show that is not overtly and expressly Christian in content? I don’t think so (and, Lord, correct me if I’m wrong). But, I am being chastised for lacking discretion, for entertaining things I know are not profitable.
Lord, even now I find myself trying to skate around this issue. Yet, I cannot. I need to bring it before You as You are bringing it before me. You know how deep some of those shows are rooted in my memory, the joys of my youth. Yet, the joys of my youth are but so much evidence of a youth misspent. Why I should find it so desirable to revisit them in this time, apart from the fact that it’s so easily done and passes an idle hour or so, is beyond me. I thank You, though, for reminding me that however much it may suit my humors, it does not suit Your holiness. I thank You for this thought that, even more than asking myself if I would continue to watch were my wife watching with me, I need to consider if I would continue watching were You in the room with me, for You assuredly are. And, it seems exceeding clear this morning, that You are not amused.
Therefore, I must ask Your forgiveness, which I do. I ask, as well, that You would keep me mindful of this in coming days and weeks, that I might demonstrate the sort of real repentance that indicates I am more than simply chagrined at being called out on this thing. Lord, I have sensed my loss of focus when I seek to focus on You, and You are showing me a part of the problem. Help me, then, strengthen my will with Your own, that I might successfully address this part of the problem in the victory of Your name. Let me be changed in this regard. And, having said that, let me be changed in every regard, that I might more closely reveal the reflection of Your image and Your presence in me.
Now, lest my readers, if there be any, suppose some darker sin than I am actually pursuing here, no I’ve not become some sort of pornography addict. Yet, I note that any novel written in the last forty years or so has probably got it’s chapter or two of pornography. And, somehow we allow that. We accept that as, at the very least, inevitable. Yet, as I have been commenting here, it is clear that these insertions have little to nothing to do with the narrative of the text. It is clear that they are there for no further purpose than to incite our lusts for a moment, because, as every advertiser knows, lust sells. However much we may claim to the contrary, we are as impacted by these textual scenes as any other man. Is it pornography, then? Well, frankly, yes. It may not be our pursuit in having picked up a book, but it is certainly the effect of continuing to read, isn’t it?
As to the programs, I’ll confess to being a longtime fan of Monty Python, the which I have found myself revisiting on the web of late. This may strike some as being particularly criminal in terms of spiritual health, and others might think it overly fastidious to be worried about such things at all. I can only say that, much as I love the humor (and likely always shall in my way), I cannot blind myself to what was clearly there all along: that the aim of the particulars of their humor was largely to undermine the mores of society, to make us more amenable to that which ought not be amenable at all, and to make us distrustful of those things which ought to be worthy of our trust. It is insidious. But, it cannot be denied that the impact is there. If it seemed innocent at the time I first saw these shows, it can no longer be seen as such. I am required, as a child of God, to assess what my eyes are viewing and I am becoming more and more clear (sadly) that His eyes are not pleased with what mine are seeing. Therefore, it is best that I heed His displeasure and determine to cease and desist. It is best that I modify my media diet to take in more that is healthy and uplifting, less that is cynical and destructive or worse.
Enough on that point, though. I want to return to something more directly deriving from the message of this passage. In that regard, one thing that particularly jumps out at me is the phraseology Jesus uses in describing the events of His parable. Following the NASB, He says, “by chance a certain priest” passed by. By chance! But, Jesus! There’s no such thing as chance! Where’s Your doctrine of Providence? Don’t You realize (well of course You do!) that there’s no such thing as coincidence? Concurrence, perhaps, but surely not coincidence! And yet, He feels perfectly free to utilize that term.
I have to say that this is, or certainly ought to be, particularly freeing. For whatever reasons and by whatever influences, many believers have become ever so cautious about words. Words have power, you see! Why, the very vibrations of those words may embed themselves in the walls and influence events for years to come. Seriously, I have heard these sorts of things said by folks that are otherwise in no way simple of mind. They will trot out Matthew 12:34 or Luke 6:45 to support the idea that the mouth must speak only what is good and true.
Yet, the point there is that the mouth reveals, not that the mouth controls. The words have no power. They are but a reflection of the inward condition. Oh! How often I am ‘corrected’ by those who hold to this sort of pseudo-philosophy. Oh! Don’t say such things! Why not? My saying does not make it so, nor will yours. Words have no power, and it is only the influence of New Age nonsense on certain corners of the Church that has convinced us otherwise.
Now, listen: If my words are reflecting my true perception of things, and my perceptions are not True, then by all means, words of admonition are my due. Bring correction. Show me where my understanding is off. But, simply saying, “Don’t speak that way!” doesn’t achieve that end. My professing falsehoods as facts does not make them factual. It only expresses my own limited understanding at best, or my malicious intent to mislead at worst. But, if my words are by way of speaking in a normal or normative fashion, then leave me alone!
If Jesus, Who assuredly understands Providence with a perfection we can only aspire to, feels free to speak of events happening ‘by chance’, I need not fear reacting to certain things with thoughts of, “what a coincidence!” There’s nothing wrong with it. Sure and it behooves me to consider what the hand of God may have in mind in these coincidences, but it would be rather odd to say instead, “What an act of divine Providence!” It may be closer to the reality of the thing, but I wonder. Is it always so? Are there times when a coincidence is just a coincidence, not some moment of great portent that deserves to be contemplated and vested with great significance?
My immediate response to that is that yes, there are many such times, and we are inclined to seek far more meaning in most events than is there to be found. But, I am also inclined to think I may very well be incorrect in that assessment.
Indeed, Lord, if I have become dull of perception as regards the things You set in my path, for Your sake and mine, please clear my eyes, unplug my ears and do as You must to this heart of mine that I might recognize You more often and respond more readily.
I’m going to skip past the initial question and answer in this passage, for it is much the same as was seen in the previous study. However, it would be well to dwell at length on the reaction Jesus has to this scribe’s answers, both in verse 28 and in verse 37. For, really, they are but one answer. If I might paraphrase the point: “You know what to do. Now do it!” Indeed, it could be stated more strongly, not unlike a mother to her wayward child. “Stopping making excuses and do what you know you should.”
This problem lies at the root of the discussion. It may not be a problem the scribe was thinking about, but it’s one his questioning soon reveals. He is looking for the loopholes. He knows what’s required, but he’s looking for some sort of permission for him not to comply. He asks what is necessary, but as Jesus quickly shows, he already knows. He follows up by attempting to limit the scope of that necessary activity and again, as Jesus concludes His parable, the scribe is all but forced to show that he actually knows there is no limit. The limits that are commonly accepted are not those God has set in place, but those the scribes have allowed. In that the ruling was not from God, it is no ruling at all, but an abomination. It is a false promise of security. It is delusional as well, in that the one who lives by that rule is deluded into thinking he is right with God when in fact it is far otherwise.
Note the progression of intent, as Luke presents it to us. The man starts with an interest in testing this Teacher. At the very least, he figures to match wits with the new guy and expects to show himself the better scholar. At worst, he is more malevolent of intent, but who among us can truly know? The term for testing is, as I noted in the previous study, ambivalent as to intent. But, one thing becomes clear: The man’s interest is primarily in his own reputation. That is the reason he doesn’t leave off the questioning after the first round. Jesus has acknowledged the correctness of his answer, but has simultaneously pointed out the failure of his action upon that knowledge. He has, in effect, pointed out that while possessing great knowledge, the scribe lacks in wisdom.
This is hardly an uncommon phenomenon, and certainly not one which is particular to that time or region. It is a near universal disease of mankind that we very often know what should be done, but do something completely other. If anything, a genuine faith in God seems to exacerbate the condition, or at least make us more acutely aware of it. Even Paul, a giant of the faith if ever there was one, suffered the very same condition. “I am not practicing what I would like to do, but doing the very thing I hate” (Ro 7:15). “The good that I wish, I do not do; but I practice the very evil that I do not wish” (Ro 7:19). That wishing could be construed as willing. It should represent a certain resolve and determination, so how is it that we do not comply with our own will?
If I set myself at the problem with mind alone, it seems most improbable. Why, after all, should I do anything apart from what I will, what I resolve and determine? There is but one answer available, which is that some outside force of greater power operates to counter my resolve. And indeed, this is the answer Paul arrives at, isn’t it? “If I am doing what I do not will, then I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me” (Ro 7:20). I should have to say, however, that this sense that it is not he doing it has its limits. He may point to sin (and thereby, indirectly at sin’s author) as being the prime motivator here, the will of greater force that overpowers his own. Yet, here is also a man indwelt by the Holy Spirit of God Himself, God Who, being all powerful, is assuredly capable of enforcing His own will in preference even to this strong enemy of the soul.
The fact of the matter is that we are, in spite of our longing for righteousness, willing partners in the rebellion. We are all of us much like this scribe. We know what we ought to do, what we ought to be like and how we ought to live. We just don’t do it. We are at very great risk, I should think, of taking our salvation for granted. Having learned that it’s not in our hands at the outset, and that really, the final outcome is likewise firmly in the hands of God, we decide that the middle clearly doesn’t matter so much. We convince ourselves, in spite of knowledge to the contrary, that we can go ahead and do pretty much as we please, since God’s already determined that we shall be saved.
Scary conclusion, that! Or it certainly ought to be. Our Sunday school session this summer is going through the book of Jeremiah. As I taught last week’s class, I found the message of this focus on the all-consuming nature of the love we are commanded to have bled into what I was teaching from that text. Today, I find the flow having turned, and what I’m reading in the prophet’s book is very much to the point of what I’m considering here. Judah had become so debased in their thinking that they had come to count on the Temple as the guarantor of their security. They figured that since God had promised to dwell in that house, they were safe to do as they pleased, however heinous, however evil those activities were.
We may not hinge our security on a building. We certainly ought not to hinge our security on being citizens of this nation – hardly a sound basis for security even in worldly terms at this stage! No! We are, if indeed our calling be true, citizens of the kingdom of heaven. True, we live out our lives in these earthly nation states, but we live here as strangers, aliens on extended visa. Or, we are supposed to live in this understanding. We know this and in varying degree we manage to allow that knowledge to influence our day to day attitudes and behaviors. But, when it comes down to it, many of us – whether consciously or subconsciously – are convinced that as citizens of America, we are secured by God. Why, we send out so many missionaries! We were founded as a nation under God! How could we think He would forsake us?
We ought to look at Israel and Judah, as it was written for our benefit. We might also look at the other great Christian nations of history. To be sure, the so called Holy Roman Empire thought themselves endowed with authority and blessing from on high, and as such, figured their earthly power was established beyond recall. Likewise, the British Empire at its height was as vigorous in missions as are we, was as much a force for good as are we. But, it did not endure, did it? Why would we suppose ourselves in a better position? How can we look at the ragged remains of culture in our present state of immorality and suppose that this is more to God’s liking than what was happening in the Judah of Jeremiah’s time?
Let me put it quite bluntly: If He was willing to act so decisively (and repeatedly) against the sins of His own chosen nation, how can we suppose He would be less willing, less decisive, in bringing corrective discipline upon His sons and daughters in this time and place? Yes, we are supremely blessed to live in the age subsequent to the Cross, when we can look back at this concrete event of history and see the completed work of God therein. Yet, those saints who preceded that watershed moment were no less blessed and secure in Him Who died for the sins of all mankind. When Judah went into exile, be assured there were those making the trek who were yet faithful to God. When the nations came against Israel in punishment and the losses mounted, be assured that among those losses were true saints of God.
Faith is not, in that sense, any sort of insurance policy; not as concerns the sorrows of earthly existence. No, faith is focused on the grander scheme of things, on the eternal estate. Faith is wholly and completely rooted in the kingdom of heaven, whatever the events of this tumultuous earthly span of life, else it is not faith at all, but only wishful thinking. But, faith, if it is real and anchored, must bear fruit. Faith cannot survive on a diet knowledge alone. It must have wisdom fed to it from on high, that the knowledge imparted by the Spirit of the Living God may be demonstrated not in demagoguery but in actions befitting the children of Light.
You know. Now do it! That is ever the chiding reminder of the Holy Spirit. Why? Because we remain a people who are terribly, terrifyingly adept at compromise. We are so busy trying to look good – to ourselves, to others – that we will do just about anything to avoid the appearance of failure! We want nothing so much as to have those who know us think of us as a good person. As if anybody in our circle of acquaintances is such an accurate judge of character! After all, they’re all busy at the same game we ourselves play. We’re all of us caught up in trying to impress one another with our Christian progress. But, the fact of the matter is that our compliance is only as complete as we deem it needful to keep up appearances.
I don’t say this as intending to denigrate the value of faith. Assuredly not! Nor do I say this as denying the progress that the faithful make in their efforts of sanctification. But, I am keenly aware that we are a creature well versed in self-delusion. The heart, Jeremiah reminds us, is more deceitful than all else – desperately sick (Jer 17:9). Know another’s measure of righteousness? We can’t even evaluate our own! But we can know this: Faith without works is a dead faith (Jas 2:26). To know is of value. But, to know without acting upon that knowledge is vanity of all vanities.
This is the constant voice of God’s correction. You know what you should be doing. You don’t need to ask Me. It’s all there. Stop playing your little game of, “What would Jesus do?” and get to the core of My commandment: What does love demand? We are to be known by our love, for love, as Jesus taught those accosting Him in the temple at the end, is the whole point. Everything said in Scripture, the whole of the Law and the Prophets, and to be sure, we can fold the Writings and the New Testament in there as well, is predicated on two primary rules for life: Love God, love man. And, in both cases, love without limit, nothing held back. In each and every situation of life, we have but to ask ourselves which is the way of love, and we know the path in which we are to walk.
First, of course, we must come to understand what love is. We must get beyond the passions, beyond the mushy romance feelings that are presented to us as being indicative of a real love. That’s not the sort of love we’re talking about. We’re talking about that love which God is; that love which is so intertwined with mercy, and with the compassionate grace to minister to the need before us, even when the one in need doesn’t recognize his need, doesn’t want our compassion. That’s what’s demanded and commanded. Love with that love that wants righteousness and justice for your every fellow being, and which is willing to do all in its power to attain to that end. Love with that intensity that brought the Father to suffer the wrongful death of His own Son, His Son a willing accomplice in the act, for the sole purpose of bringing about that righteous and just end for us. Love sacrificially, unsparingly. Love without borders.
The sort of love that reflects Love has no room for the followup question this lawyer posed. That sort of love does not see any point in asking, “Who is my neighbor?” For that sort of love already knows full well that everyman is my neighbor. There is none so lost that it is beyond God to find him. There is none so depraved that God cannot, if He so chooses, restore him to righteousness. God is all Powerful! The word impossible becomes utterly devoid of any meaning in His presence. It is made nonsensical because for Him, there is only Possible. And it is this very God, this God Who in His infinite Power is absolutely unopposable, Who has commanded us to love in His own fashion. Can we still have any questions as to complying?
To come back round to that trust in the wrong things, though: For the people of Judah, it was the Temple. They were sure that because the temple was in town, they could do what they please and God would protect them. Some of us, perhaps all of us in varying degree, have learned to take the security of our salvation in that same sense. We know we are saved – or at least believe we know that – and therefore, we feel we can continue with whatever particular sins happen to be our favorites. We are pretty sure we can thumb our nose at God (if we’re careful about it, and limit it in large degree) without fear of reprisal. As Jeremiah said, our hearts or desperately sick!
In some areas of life, I am made aware of the sickness and moved to address the problem. Yet, there are others that, no matter how often I feel the prompting in the morning, by noon at the latest I’ve set the warnings aside and plunged forward. Habit? Sure, you can call it that. Addiction? Likely so. But, these are really just clever ways of avoiding the root issue of sin. I could make as many excuses as I please for ignoring the command of God, but it changes nothing as to my culpability for the result. I know it. Now, it remains but to do it. I am smart enough to see the point of things. Now, it remains but to be wise enough to act upon knowledge. I see the need for mercy, even towards the most unlovable of people. It remains only to show that mercy, to become a willing and active hand of God towards this poor world.
Turning to the parable by which Jesus makes His greater point, it would be easy to spend an inordinate amount of time looking at the significance of those three travelers who appear therein. I think, however, that these can be dealt with more briefly. We have but to note the general view of the groups each of these men represent and we shall have done well enough.
The priest was the official holy man as we might think of him. His both the prestige and the responsibility of ministering most directly in the presence of God. The rules laid out for this class were stringent. But, the rules had not prevented their decay. What remained, as Jesus is exposing here, was all ritual and no spiritual. They were what we would think of as a dead church today; going through the motions still, but with no true involvement, no investment of the self. The actions taken by the parable’s representative priest are typical. He is more concerned about reputation and appearance, about apparent fitness for office, than he is about actually representing the God he claims to serve.
As to the Levite, he was numbered – if indeed he was active – amongst the servants of God’s house. While certain articles suggest that we ought not to equate them to the deacons of our period, that still seems a reasonable point of comparison. One statement which applied to them at least in the earliest periods describes them as being ‘an Israel within an Israel’, and of being ‘the witness and guard of the truth’. The activities depicted here demonstrate that whatever honors had accrued at the outset had become as nothing by the present time.
Both of these decaying religiosities deserve to be taken as means to measure our own estate. We, too, are capable of going through the motions without any real involvement of the self. We, too, are inclined to view ourselves as being part of the church within the church, the True Believers ™. But, as has already been said, we are also very able deluders of self. We may find we have slipped from that place of true belief and not even have noticed. We need – and praise be to God, we have – that constant check of the Holy Spirit upon us if this be the case. Yet, God calls us to remain aware of our own spiritual temperature. We can and should be confident of His salvific efforts on our behalf. At the same time, we ought ever and always seek to be living in such fashion as demonstrates that reality, even knowing that it can never cause that reality.
The actions of these two men are fundamentally rooted in the commandment for those who would serve God in this fashion to remain clean and undefiled. This was indeed an important matter, and remains so. God is not interested in being ministered to by us when we are in our filth. However, it seems that the concern of these men for their ritual purity had rendered them unable to serve those who most needed their help. The goal of God had never been to make His servants inhuman and inhumane. How could the God Who is ever renowned for His chesed, His everlasting love, grace and mercy, be pleased by His representatives proving wholly unloving, ungracious and merciless? But, thus it had come to be. Remaining clean had become more important than representing God. This is the fundamental issue at hand, and it is a characteristic we again do well to seek out and weed out for our own part.
As to the Samaritans, their standing amongst the Jews is well known. From the time of Ezra’s return from exile onward, these people had been rejected by the ostensibly pure-blooded returning remnant. Those returning were quite certain that they who had remained had of necessity intermixed with the other, Gentile populations that had been forcibly resettled in the region. One might well note that it was not long at all before that very charge was laid against the returning people, and that with far more proof! Indeed, it would be difficult to find cause for the Samaritans not to have made similar suppositions about the exiles. After all, they had been in the heart of the Gentile nation, far less able, one should think, to maintain their exclusivity than those who had the countryside of Samaria to dwell in, and little by way of oversight.
Their rejection upon the return of the exiles succeeded primarily in resurrecting all the old animosities between the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judea. It’s interesting that this point never seems to come up in discussions of the Samaritans. But, clearly there had been periods of conflict and animosity between those two kingdoms during the time when both were extent. Much like what we see in various corners of the world today, even though the original causes have long since vanished and generation upon generation has come and gone, the animosity remains. Think of the Balkans. Think, for that matter, of our own nation. Up here in the north we may not sense it so much, but one needn’t spend all that much time in the southern regions to get a sense that a certain soreness and resentment remains over the Civil War, or the War between the States, or whatever other name one might choose by which to speak of it.
Some things never die, and it would seem that animosities are chief amongst them. There is a reason Scripture takes issues of forgiveness and vengeance so seriously. Where resentment sets in, it poisons not only the one who first begins to resent, but will almost inevitably poison those descended from that one person. Think of even the first few examples we have from the history of the Bible! We see a rivalry between Jacob and Esau, a wronging of brother by brother which was never really resolved. Or, we could go back a generation earlier and consider Isaac and his step-brother Ishmael. Here, the wrong was by sister upon sister, as the mothers of these two pursued their own power struggle. But, the children learned swiftly from their mothers.
In either of these cases, we continue to see the fallout right into our own time, how many thousands of years later? Hatreds are passed on far more efficiently, it seems, than loves. Is it any wonder, then, that God proclaims that we who are His children will stand out in the world’s eyes precisely because of our clear and evident love one for another? Indeed, as our Lord instructs in this passage, we shall be, or certainly ought to be known for the way our love expands far outside our circle of fellow believers, touching upon any and all who happen to enter into our vicinity.
Let me go back, briefly, to the Samaritans before I pursue that thought further. For, when I return to that thought, I fully expect that it shall occupy the remainder of this study, as well it should! What is interesting here is not so much who the Samaritans really were, or what they had become, but more how they were perceived. As I have already noted, the Jewish view as that these were a people of mixed blood, no longer purely of the tribes of Israel. Surely they had become intermixed with Canaanite and Phoenician, with the Macedonians that were later forced to settle there! (Again, I could note that this was exactly the same issue that these purists of Judah had long experienced prior to exile. Hardly any room here for establishing a point of pride!) Yet, the Samaritans would claim to be cleanly descended from the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh.
One point that has come up recently in some area of my studies, which I had not really caught onto before, was that there was an unhealthy degree of rivalry between Ephraim and Judah. This may have been at the heart of the original secession of the northern kingdoms, or it may have been a product of that event. It strikes me, though, that to a Judean loyalist, descent from Ephraim may not have looked any much cleaner than descent from Macedonians or Canaanites! Oh, granted, they would be aware that Ephraim was as much a descendant of Abraham as Judah. But, then, so was Ishmael! So was Esau! And, nobody expected to find them welcomed into the temple courts, whatever the prophets may have said to the contrary.
Eventually, the Samaritans came to be viewed as schismatics, as having departed the true faith. This was in large part due to their having been made so thoroughly unwelcome at the temple when the exiles returned. Of course, the exiles viewed it as the Samaritans abandoning the faith and setting up a rival system. But, really, which was cause and which effect? The actions of the supposedly faithful rendered the outcome all but a foregone conclusion.
The power, then, of this parable lies in the fact that the most accurate representative of God in that tale is the one deemed farthest from Him. The point is made with shocking force. Appearances are nothing. Any man with one eye open could look upon the scene and take the measure of those involved. Who was most neighborly? There’s no question. Indeed, there’s only one candidate. The lawyer, as one footnote comments, can’t even bring himself to name the nationality of that candidate, so deep runs the hatred. But, he must confess the rightness of this hated man’s actions as measured against the wrongness of those pillars of the community.
Now, I really must set aside this part of the discussion, for several points have begun to be made in the last few paragraphs that deserve our more complete attention. In these points we shall arrive at the lesson for our own day, or at further such lessons.
Let me revisit this point, made just a couple of paragraphs previous: “The actions of the supposedly faithful rendered the outcome all but a foregone conclusion.” This is a perennial issue for any church body. It seems to me that in each of the congregations I have been part of, this same point has played out in one fashion or another. The most common from will be brought up in moments of communal introspection, when we note, perhaps, that we don’t welcome newcomers as well as we ought, or that we don’t take notice of those who have been absent as we ought. These, however, have less to do with intentional rejection and more to do with an untoward degree of inward focus. We are, after all, more inclined to concern ourselves with our own affairs and fortunes than to concern ourselves with others. And, we could also put forward the excuse that we’re just naturally more comfortable being with those we know. It would be nothing more than an excuse, and a poor one at that, but that would hardly stop us from trotting it out anyway.
The more critical forms of this issue arise in what we see shaping the character of our membership. Some churches almost pride themselves on being primarily lower class in terms of membership. Others take equal or even greater pride in the quality of their members. We can leave out concerns of racial bias, as much as these may play a part. Honestly, I think we’re so conscious of the dark role of race in our history that we are fairly conscientious about overcoming any such bias in ourselves. I may be delusional, but that’s how it strikes me.
My previous church was particularly adept at making no such distinctions. I cannot say they were perfect, or unanimous in their efforts, but by and large there was a successful intermixing of race to be witnessed of a Sunday. How well that persisted into the week was perhaps more questionable. But, I know from personal experience that it persisted at least in goodly part.
Yet, I would have to say there was a different, though very definite point of exclusivity in that case, and that was one of societal status. Here, too, there were exceptions. There were those who could cheerfully associate across the lines, as it were. But, overall, one could look at the composition of that body and see a relative absence of the well educated, economically successful sorts. Indeed, one could find a certain pride taken in that, a spiritual pride in intellectual simplicity. Why, the apostles were not well educated folk, therefore we must be nearer the apostles than most, right?
The church we have begun attending may well suffer from the exact opposite prejudice. The percentage of its population with collegiate degrees is rather surprising, at least to me. Perhaps it’s more common amongst New England churches of more traditional Protestant leanings than has been the case amongst the Charismatics and Pentecostals. I don’t know. I’ve only my small slice of experience to measure by.
The potential issue, however, is much the same for either body. For that matter, it is much the same for each individual member of either body. It’s there in the Samaritan divide. If we, whether overtly or accidentally, cause a newcomer, perhaps no more than a candidate for salvation at the time, to walk out feeling rejected or repelled, how far reaching might the consequences be? This goes well beyond the state of that individual’s salvation, which would already be of sufficient import as to give us pause. But, look again at history. Look at the repercussions of these ancient events that are still playing out and seemingly ever shall. Would you be willing cause of such unending hostility to God? Can we really think He would be pleased were we to do so? Of course not!
However, I would note that these things have arisen not out of some overt, malevolent impulse on the part of God’s people. Even with Sarah and Hagar, one cannot charge that Sarah had the sole intention of ensuring Hagar and her child could not find peace with God. No! She was consumed with one, very parental thought, however misguided. She was a mother protecting her child’s future with all the fierceness of mothers under threat throughout the ages. That was her motivation, not some urge to keep God for herself and her family!
When Ezra and his crowd chased off that first offer of help from the Samaritans, he was not consciously thinking about cutting them off from worship. He was being mindful of the holiness of God. Yes, I’m willing to grant him so kind an assessment. I really do not sense that his motivations were malevolent, nor even considerate of what impact his actions might have on these others. He was primarily inconsiderate, being focused on his own priorities and those he had immediate charge of.
This is us! We, too, tend to be inconsiderate of others as we are focused on whatever has our focus at the moment. We act and respond without thinking as often as not. We certainly are not inclined to weigh the impact of our every act and word. But, we ought to do so.
I am thinking, as I write that, of a chance encounter I had between services just a few weeks back. I had been serving on the worship team that week, and somebody, somebody I don’t know at all, came up to me between services to comment on my presence there, to offer encouragement in her own way, I suppose. Now, as I said, neither of us knows the other. We certainly know nothing of each other’s history, nor even of what events might have been on one another’s minds that day. For my part, the long battle of pride leaves me somewhat skittish, cautious in terms of serving in worship again. Funny; my brother guitarist at the old church spent long years holding back, not wanting to bring a worldly attitude and style into the house of God, and I always considered it kind of quaint – amusing but unnecessary. Now, I find myself feeling the exact same impulse and wondering that I had failed to understand it before.
At any rate, between that skulking concern of mine, and my being rather keen to see if my wife had made it to service or was in need of my prayer and attention, I was totally distracted, and not particularly inclined to involve myself in this conversation. Frankly, I’m almost never inclined to involve myself in conversation like that. Just not in my nature, but I try to combat it usually, to be as sociable as I can reasonably be. But, not this time. I don’t know you, I don’t need to feed my pride, and I’ve got pressing concerns. Well, that’s my thought life, of course my vocal life is far more sterile. I rather brush off the comment and move along. Again, I’m not seeking to offend, just focused elsewhere, focused on my own issues. But, what’s the impact? Would I even recognize this person to apologize at some later date? I’m not certain I would. It’s one of those things that, once my other concerns had calmed, I realized I had got horridly wrong, but of course, by then it’s too late.
That realization came back to me the very next Sunday, when I was once more occupied with my thoughts and activities, with things to be attended to. Once more, I was intercepted by somebody who wanted to engage in a casual conversation. My urge, in that moment, was to again cut things short as I had places to go, things to do. But, the memory was there. No! This is at least as important as anything you had in mind. Indeed, in that it pertains to relationship building within the body of Christ, it is almost certainly more important than what you were thinking to do in terms of the physical plant. The church, after all, is not the building, but those who come fill it of a Sunday. There’s a reason why we find so many boutiques and restaurants and what have you occupying old buildings with steeples. It’s because the previous occupants of those buildings no longer found a reason to visit. Relationship had died. Oh, the building still stands, but it has no further value to the kingdom does it?
These considerations are the sort that really ought to be driving me far more than any concerns over things that need doing. These are the parts that matter, not our programs and agendas. Being busy for the church is no guarantee that our activities benefit the kingdom, and may very well become detrimental to the very church we get so busy about. If busyness is allowed to so occupy our time and thought that we become even inadvertently rude in our treatment of our fellow believers, then our little community will shrivel and die as have so many others, and it will have done so for good reason. God will not be mocked, however pious the appearance of our mockery.
Yet, even this, even the realization that, as a brother of mine put it awhile back, the interruptions are my job, or in this case my opportunity to represent my Lord and Savior; even this is only step one. The issue here is not reaching out to fellow believers, to close associates. Although, it must be said that there is nothing said as to whether this man who was accosted was Jew, Samaritan or full-on Gentile. Frankly, it’s beside the point, which is precisely the point Jesus is driving at.
We are forever making distinctions as to who we will or will not associate with. It’s part of our nature which I doubt we could ever fully suppress or change, although God doubtless can if He so chooses. If we are not implementing our own personal caste system then we have some other criteria for selecting who we shall be more inclined towards. We have preferences, whatever the settings on our preference menus may be. It could be as painfully trivial as the Mac versus PC question.
Think about that, for just a moment. We just recently endured a presidential debate in New Hampshire, and much was made of the triviality of the questions which the host posed to the candidates. Coke or Pepsi? Who cares? What possible significance are we to derive from that? Is it really a point upon which we ought to form our opinion as to who is the better candidate, that he drinks the same cola as we do? And yet, it will matter to some portion of the populace. They may not even realize it, for it is in the way of advertising, and the way of advertising is ever a course of stealth. It will matter not because we really think it should, but because we will not really give it a thought. It will matter because the answers given, if we were so unfortunate as to hear them, will have lodged itself in some mood-producing receptor in our brains and we will not even notice the influence it is having upon our decisions.
This same sort of thing happens in our personal encounters. When we are concerned with matters of dating, we think of it as chemistry, and there may well be some element of chemistry involved. But, the same things are in play whenever we meet. We are introduced to somebody and almost immediately we will have a measure of our interest in developing closer bonds with that somebody. It will likely be little more than that all-important first impression, which is hardly much to go on. Yet, we all know it is also a most difficult impression to counter.
My point is this: If we are to become a people who love our neighbors as we ought, even in that subset of neighbors who constitute our particular Christian community, we will have to become very intentional about it. We will have to first be a people willing to analyze where our opinions and preferences are arising from and second, be a people absolutely determined to sublimate and dispose of these opinions and preferences in favor of becoming a people wholly open to one another without discrimination of any sort. Whether it’s some sort of class distinction, a particular doctrinal affinity, shared enthusiasms or any such matter, it’s not enough to serve as a means by which we select our compatriots. We are to become a family. Family does not select. Family is selected for us. The wise parent knows he cannot afford to allow favoritism in his treatment of his children. He did not select those children. They were given him, and he must be determined to love and cherish them all as equally as is humanly possible.
Furthermore, he must seek to impart that impartial love to those children in his charge. They will have differences, even personality conflicts, but they must be raised up to overcome those challenges by their love one for another. Blood, as they say, is thicker than water, and most of us who have had siblings know that whatever conflicts may have arisen between us growing up, there is also a bond, and a recognition that however poorly we may get along, others had better respect our sibs or they answer to us. No, it’s not always so, but it’s always supposed to be. And, this is only more true for the family of Christ.
Whatever our differences, whatever our internal squabbles, yet there is a tie that binds. Our devotion to each other can and must override and overwhelm any such strife amongst us. But, again, this is only the first step. How are we doing? Plenty of challenge there for us, I should think. But, Jesus is not willing to stop there. You see, that’s exactly where this lawyer wanted it to stop. Sure, Jesus, sure. We must love our neighbors, and so long as I can determine my neighborhood, I’m sure I do just fine with that. I mean, I enjoy nothing more than hanging out with my fellow lawyers discussing the fine points of the Law. You know, I’d do anything for those guys!
Of course, lawyer that he is, he already knows that the real scope of that commandment is far greater. But, he and his gang have become accustomed to letting one another off the hook on that account, just as we have an amazingly perverse propensity for letting ourselves off the hook for our own sins and shortcomings. “Who is my neighbor, then, Jesus? We discuss this all the time at our professional meetings. What’s your take?” And the answer, the Authoritative answer that comes back is quite simply this: There is nobody who is not your neighbor. There is absolutely no boundary to that command. You cannot find the limit, because there is no limit. To discuss where the requirements of the command cease to apply is to fail to grasp the command, or to maliciously equivocate on the topic.
This is but an expansion of the original point: You clearly know the Law, now do it. Stop poking at it hoping to find some loophole by which you might comply more comfortably. It’s not about comfort. It’s about Life.
Here, we are seeing the application made in regard to the fundamentals of God’s commandments for life: Love God. Love everybody. And, love in the active. It’s not the feeling we’re after, but the expression. It’s the compassion, the gut-twisting commiseration with the misery of that other person that leaves us unwilling that their need should go unanswered.
That’s what’s on display with this Samaritan in the parable. Notice the progression here. The priest sees the situation and immediately moves to avoid it entirely lest he become involved. The Levite at least goes to have a closer look. But he finds something in the situation which either advises him to pretend he hasn’t seen or that seems to alleviate him of any responsibility to act. The Samaritan, by contrast, sees the situation and takes no measure of the man whatsoever. That man’s status or nationality don’t enter into it. He simply sees a fellow being in need and is moved instantly to act so as to meet that need.
That’s compassion, that compassion which is love in action. Compassion, by the very terminology in the Greek, bespeaks deep inward emotion. We’re talking about that sort of response that has your guts in a knot, the stomach churning. We’re talking moved. But, many a man will stop at that point and seek nothing more than to get away from whatever has caused that response, to put that disturbance behind him and get on with life. Oh, he might offer a clucking of the tongue to show he recognizes the pain this other person must be feeling, but he’s not going to do anything about it. “I’ll be praying for you.” But, of course, we know from experience that there’s little likelihood that he’ll really be doing even that much.
No, it’s just a way to sidle past the problem as the priest and the Levite have done. Compassion demands that we do whatever lies within our power to do. That must certainly include prayer, but it doesn’t cease there, and it certainly doesn’t take a complete pass by only promising to eventually get around to tossing a word or two heavenward, and those words most likely to be, “Thank God that’s done with.”
The actions this Samaritan is depicted as taking represent what was in essence the best medical help he could hope to provide. It may seem odd to us that he would pour oil and wine on the wounds. Sounds like something better fit for a salad doesn’t it? But, that wine served as disinfectant, a critical concern out there on this road through the wild country. And, the oil would serve to soothe the pain of torn skin and muscle, would help to keep the flesh of the wound a bit more supple, allowing a greater chance for healing. We do well to bear that usage of oil in mind when considering the call for the elders to anoint the sick with oil. There is most assuredly the spiritual significance, the symbolic inviting in of the Holy Spirit, but God doesn’t really need much by way of symbolic action on our part, and frankly, symbolism never healed a soul. But, that oil was also a medicinal application. In other words, we do well to read that call as a call to act as this Samaritan did, and do whatever may be in your power to help and heal the sick as well as praying for them. It’s a rendering of that old Nehemiah lesson: Work like you never prayed; pray like you cannot work at all.
This same call upon the elders towards their immediate charges in the body of the church is demonstrative of what Jesus has set as the call on each and every one of us. We are to have this same attitude. See a need? Don’t just tut tut the sadness of it all. Don’t just offer sympathy. Offer help. Maybe you can’t solve the problem. Maybe it really is too big for you. That doesn’t matter. You do what you can, and you do all that you can. Anything short of that is short of the commandment given.
There are, I think, two final points to pursue in the parable. The first is to note that this Samaritan went even further than simply doing what was required. He went, as we might say, beyond the call of duty. He did not stop at dressing the man’s wounds. He did not stop at getting him over the hump, as it were. He kept going, telling that innkeeper to do whatever was needful on the man’s behalf at his own expense. Love expressed! Help another even to my own detriment; that’s what we’re talking about, and that’s always been there as the fundamental point tying together the second tablet laws.
Second, of course, is the point that neighbors may show up in the most surprising circumstances. Neighbors are not the ones we think of most obviously as neighbors. Neighbors include everybody, including the least lovely, the most scary of folk. The drug-addled street person down off of main street? Yup. Neighbor. Those scary foreign gang members that rove the area? Right again! Neighbor. The well heeled New Englander that has not time for this religion nonsense? You get the picture. There is nobody so well off nor so utterly down on his luck as does not qualify as neighbor to the believer. There is nobody so respectable nor so reprehensible as does not require from us this self-sacrificing love that reflects the ultimately self sacrificing love of Jesus our Christ and Savior.
Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God (1Jn 3:1)! Now, go and do likewise.
That’s it, Lord. That’s the sum of it. And, I know how thoroughly short of the mark I am. As You have been opening my ears to the obvious in other areas of life through this period, through this passage, I pray You open my will to Your will, open my heart to Your heart, and speed the work in me by which You bring me to the place of obedience to Your ways. I ask forgiveness for the too many times I have not just fallen short but failed to even try. I ask forgiveness, if it is permissible to so speak, for the many stumbles and failures that doubtless remain ahead of me. But, mostly, I cry out that You would speed the work of renewal in this too-hard heart of mine, that I might more swiftly come to be as You intend and desire me to be. Make me, then, Lord, first and foremost a man who desires after Your own heart.
