A little old lady regularly shopped the drugstore where I once worked. She always had a smile and a joke. Sometimes she would be nicely dressed and on her way to church, and she dutifully extended to me an invitation to visit. I made her a promise, indicating that I’d let her know when I was coming. I kept it on the back burner until it was simply time to make good on it.
I like visiting other churches. I like to see what community in other parts of the “family” looks like. Of course, there is the awkwardness of being the newbie anywhere, but that’s easily remedied by welcoming folk. I hoped for such people this time because I knew everything about me and this place was different, except Jesus. Still, I’ve preached a little everywhere, so acculturation was not difficult for me.
I went to the Sunday evening service. The little white church on the hill was quaint and about as dated as its congregation. Still, the people were very nice and cordial. I truly felt welcomed. I sat alone since my customer showed up just after the service began. Then it came time for the sermon. The minister, a senior but sprite man, ushered me into the most humiliating church experience I have ever had.
Somewhere after his intro, he started into a diatribe about this denomination, why it was right and why outsiders (like me) were on their way to hell. He taught and clarified, railed and complained, preached and evangelized straight dogma. I honestly wondered if this was what he had prepared for the people that evening because everyone else there, members of the church for years, certainly knew the script. I was the only guest present.
At times I nearly melted to the floor since it was evident that he was using the moment to give the visitor ‘a learning’ about why he didn’t have good religion. Then, I’d feel anger at his manner and entrenched ignorance. Everything he would say would cause something I learned in seminary to race to my wounds like white blood cells staving off infection. All that was left for him to do was point and say in a booming voice, “YOU, SIR!” and interrogate me on the spot.
What’s Your Motivation?
Why do we do this kind of stuff? I mean, at church, in our personal conversations, right here in the blogosphere? We regularly waste time arguing, criticizing, and lambasting others when we could be demonstrating the love of Christ to people who are hurting and conspiring good works that edify. Being factional is harmful; being right is counterproductive; making heretics out of people who only peeve us is not Christlike.
Behavior like this brings us into the condemnation of the ungodly minister described by Jude. In just 25 verses, Jude delivers a vivid, scathing criticism of false leaders that reads like an Old Testament prophet. He describes their glibness and failure to be conscientious in their speech and to weigh their words and actions. Jude skillfully references the fable of Michael the archangel refusing to be disputatious with Satan over Moses’s body.
And my point, using Jude’s illustration, is that if even an archangel wouldn’t allow himself to become reproachful of Satan out of respect for the Lord but opted to leave the matter with God, how do we cavalierly denounce our Christian brothers and sisters? Our methods may not please the Lord.
There are ways to deal with true spiritually destructive problems, but it seems that most of our squabbles result of our own pride. Let us not take the low road. We dishonor God and wreck the church in the process.
Serve only the Lord. Keep God first, before every other thing. Revere God and represent him truthfully. Rest and celebrate God’s faithfulness to you. Honor the leadership of your parents. Respect life, bodily and emotionally. Enjoy sexual things only within the sacred bond of marriage. Cherish the things you own and work for new […]
Jesus’s encounter with the rich young ruler is fascinating. Unfortunately, the most we ever retain of it is the command for the man to give away his fortune and his walking away disappointed. But it’s the rest of the story and Jesus’s insight on the human heart that makes this account intriguing.
We know from the story itself that this gentleman was young, rich, and some type of ruler, perhaps of a synagogue or political institution. We also know that he was eagerly devout but now troubled in his spiritual life, which brought him to Jesus.
♠♠♠♠
In my mind, I always envision this guy as the newbie executive, good-looking and not long out of grad school, boasting a remarkable resume and impeccable work record and reputed to be a go-getter. Everyone loves being around him, even the old-heads. But, although he’s sharp and soaring to the top, he still needs some tweaking, and he runs smack into the one who can help him the most see what he’s missing.
This man finds Jesus on his way out of town. He respectfully bows, acknowledging Jesus’s status as a great teacher. Then he makes a mistake—“Good teacher…” The mistake isn’t apparent to us because we don’t share the language or cultural context in which it was expressed. Surely we consider Jesus a good teacher in every possible sense.
Yet Jesus stops him…on a technicality. The word good—the way it was conveyed—denotes intrinsic goodness and was mainly used when referring to Jehovah. Jesus challenges the man’s needless flattery: “Why do you refer to me with such divine language but respect me as a mere man?” There was much Jesus could’ve said to affirm his divinity with the statement, but this wasn’t the point. Instead, it is a lesson about simplicity and avoiding pretension that this “executive” quickly learns with Jesus.
♠♠♠♠
So what was he to do to inherit eternal life? Something agitated this young man. He was devout but searching, and his audience with the great Galilean had come. Jesus points him to the Law of Moses to which he discloses his lifelong history of discreet living.
There is a correlation here between this man and the seeker. What we see in the ruler is an awakened spiritual conscience being drawn by the Holy Spirit. We should not doubt his words to Jesus that he had obeyed the precepts of God as best he could. But Jesus, already knowing the condition of his heart, lures him to a perch in his own soul where he could perceive that religion-by-the-book falls terribly short of unbridled devotion from the heart.
“One thing you lack,” Jesus tells him. This was the climactic moment this Jesus admirer had long awaited. He was going to get the solution to his problem. “Go, sell everything you have.” What! This was no letdown; it was a shock. But he was cornered, and he understood exactly what Jesus was telling him.
♠♠♠♠
Jesus wasn’t condemning this man’s status, wealth, or reputation. Instead, he was attacking the covetousness that festered in his heart. Money had a grip on this man’s life, and his devotion to God, something he treasured, suffered because of it. Jesus’s instruction was a major test that served to reveal the root problem—idolatry—that prevented him from having the peace he sought.
Jesus asked him to do the impossible for himself—for someone else it could be the directive to end a relationship, to quit a job or activity, or to assume a responsibility. The command, whatever it is, exposes what might be controlling us, and within it we always face a decision. Unfortunately for this man, covetousness proved that he could not freely serve God because he would not.
Before I move on, notice something Jesus said: “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and then you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” Does that formula sound familiar? The text explains that Jesus had a fondness for this guy. Surely Jesus appraised his inner purity and strength of character.
Was he inviting this gentleman to be part of his circle…a disciple? The other twelve had indeed left everything behind to follow Jesus. Certainly, there was some type of ministry Jesus intended for him. Here was a break this young executive could’ve only imagined, but his heart wouldn’t allow him to have it.
♠♠♠♠
After the man leaves Jesus dejected, Jesus exclaims, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” In fact, he says it twice. Then, he states something incredibly revealing: “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.”
He speaks of the transformation of the heart, with regard to the rich who have idolized their wealth but not limited to them. The verse is similar to those given in Genesis (18:14) and Jeremiah (32:27) where the reference is more about physical might: “Is anything too hard for the Lord?” Of course, Jesus would aim the notion toward the heart.
What is possible is the ability for the human heart to overcome even the strongest vices by God’s grace. It may be incredibly difficult and people might never believe it about one, but God will help us, if we let him.
And is this not the gospel? Isn’t this the fullest expression of the cross? That we need not be dominated…mastered by sin…controlled by our weaknesses? After a while sin isn’t fun anymore. Jesus offers us freedom.
(Drawn from Matt. 19:16-30; Mark 10:17-31; Luke 18:18-30)
The parable of the sower is rich teaching. Jesus tells the story of a farmer who sows seed, and he focuses on what happens with the seed based on four conditions where it lands: the pathway, the sandy soil, the weeds, and the cultivated ground.
Then, Jesus offers a spiritual rendition of the scenarios. (Read it in Matthew 13:18-23.) He contrasts the effects of the pathway, sandy soil, and weed-ridden ground with the cultivated land to explain why the seed will not grow. His discourse is somewhat inductive as well, as though to clarify that the word of God flourishes only in good ground—resultant of deeply planted seed, wholesome soil, and weeded ground.
But there’s more.
Seeing What’s Possible
There is none of us who reads this parable and does not say in our hearts, “I want to be good ground.” It is because we truly desire to please God and know that we worship him best with the beauty of holy lives. Yet the holy life is gradually gained, or lifelong in scope. We live in a constant tug-o-war of yielding to the Holy Spirit or our carnal desires.
This is what makes the parable so pertinent to our devotion: it envisions ideal spirituality. It shows us a picture of the heart in which faith is permitted to deeply implant itself and flourish.
A parable is a comparison, and Jesus used them masterfully. I do not seek to explain this parable; instead, I wish to draw attention to Jesus’s pedagogy. What is interesting with the sower parable is his use of contrast to create an appreciable and lasting point in the minds of his hearers. He leads us through the three adverse conditions to help us better understand the character of a good heart.
I think that’s important because sometimes envisioning the ideal is difficult. We can theoretically understand ideal conditions but have no clue about how to attain them or have no expectation because we’ve always lived in defeated circumstances where the ideal was merely surviving, not thriving.
Could I Ever…
My sister relocated with her job and purchased a home with a large backyard that was completely overgrown with weeds, thicket, and trees. I would often stand on the deck and imagine what the yard would actually look like with grass and recreational spaces.
It is not unlike outsiders who want to know more about Christ but doubt they could ever live as a Christian. It is not unlike Christians who wonder how they might ever overcome certain sin patterns or live a joyfully devout spiritual life. So God envisions it for us. He has shown us the fruit of the Spirit, the love of God, Spirit-empowered ministry, and Jesus Christ himself.
It is an act of his grace to first say, “Let me show you why this isn’t working for you.” Let me show you why you’re frustrated in this area…why your efforts consistently fail here. It is because (back to the parable) this is unwholesome soil; this is weeds; and this isn’t even planted. “But now let me show you what you’ve really been wanting!”
You see, God gets us to desire his vision for us by using where we are to point the way to something better. We often dream and say, “Now wouldn’t it be good if…” To that God says, “That’s it!—and it is for you.”
And what is for us? A fertile heart with a bumper crop of righteousness. It will be the result of our being conscientiously introspective, determined to please the Lord, and open to the Spirit’s work in our hearts.
In Mark 10, after the rich young ruler parted ways with Jesus, the Lord exclaims, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” (v. 23) Having everything in this life, we could end up bankrupt in the next because our hearts are spiritually unkempt, thus unproductive.
But Jesus didn’t end it there: “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible” (v. 27). God has the power to make us see differently, to change our minds, to help us groom our hearts for godliness.
Joyful are they who keep a humble opinion of themselves, for the treasures of the life of faith belong to them. Joyful are they who grieve for their sins, for they shall have lasting spiritual comfort. Joyful are they who with patience endure injury, for they shall receive abundantly in this life. Joyful are they […]
When Jesus was cornered about the significance of the law of God, he delivered what I consider a cataclysmic redefinition of spiritual devotion. Peculiar, however, is the question that was put to him and how it is rendered in each of the synoptic gospels. Matthew has it as the greatest commandment. Mark showcases the most important one. Luke divulges what one must do to inherit eternal life. Convincing arguments could be made for the differences based on the biographer and audience. Whatever the reasons, Jesus discloses a poignant message about the life of faith and its interrelation with the people around us.
“‘Love the Lord your God,'” he says, “‘with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and ‘Love your neighbor as yourself'” (Luke 10:27). Additionally, what Luke provides that Matthew and Mark do not is the riveting parable of the Samaritan helper. Jesus tells this story in exposition of his initial response after his interrogator presses him further: “Who is my neighbor?”
The Purpose of Life
“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine” (Luke 10:30-34).
I won’t attempt to exegete the text and will trust your knowledge about the significant aspects of the story. But drawing from Jesus’s answer to the question—and only part of what I could hope to write on his exposition—I discover his implication that the love of God must be the context of all our action. Everything we do in the life of faith must be accomplished having God as our object of affection and, foremost, be a service to him.
So no matter how happy or sad, relaxed or urgent life becomes for us, God should remain the spur to our progress and answer any curiosity about how we bear the hardships we may face. Where his love supports us, our love renders all to him in return. In good times, we live with gratitude; in bad times, we trust that he foresaw them and provides us the strength to persevere.
This concept extends to how we treat the people around us. Another point from Jesus’s profound statement is that there is a real interrelationship between loving God and loving our fellow man. I am convinced that Jesus’s explanation is a wrapped package on the purpose of life itself—”All the Law and Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matt. 22:40).
The full revelation of God seems to consist in enjoying the fellowship of our Creator and his gift of creation expressly witnessed in human relationship. It is the prize of humankind—the image of God in people—that lends our relationships incredible significance and possibility, especially among those who together fellowship with their God. Further, we can only understand some things about God and his ways as we peer in the faces of others and not necessarily those who treat us well and fit our image of what godliness might be.
What Being a Christian Means
The kingdom message, so revealing of God’s heart, comes into focus as we love God’s way by serving and cherishing and helping and empathizing, having lost sight of the particulars of whom we serve. In acting this way we acquaint ourselves with God’s character and against it measure the worth of our own human dignity, although we act simply by extending a hand toward another. Yet it is an act of worship to Jesus, the ultimate servant.
It has everything to do with the verdict of the sheep and the goats: “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me” (Matt. 25:35-36).
Jesus’s words are bold and lean—how do we ever miss him? I hear in his teaching and my own experience with less-than-stellar individuals these words: You cannot be Christian on your own terms. It’s simply impossible. Christ, his kingdom message, and his example are the basis for our action. What these actually accomplish more often is the exposure of flaws in our profession of faith.
I find myself more and more vexed by those whose notion of living for God and being Christian is merely attending church religiously. These people can ‘do church’ and consider that they have done God a favor or appeased his anger or earned points on their spiritual progress chart, all of which is nothing more than buying indulgences! They think highly of their own spirituality and look down on those Christ calls them to serve. But nothing could be more reproachful to Jesus and his message.
Jesus commands us to love our enemies; to pray for those who persecute us; to bless those who curse us; to offer the other cheek; to leave our offering and make sure we’ve not caused an offense. But God, we pine, I don’t care anything about them! Look at how they treat me. You expect me to go help them out and wash their nastiness now that they’ve gotten what they deserve? Why? Besides, they’re not getting saved anyway—there’s nothing in it for me!
What we’ve usually missed in Christ’s words is a simple point: This is not about us. It is about God alone and that he’s gaining ground in us. We only reveal how low a priority faith is in our matters of judgment and decision; that the piety we wear on Sundays makes no practical difference beyond the pews we’ve sat on.
Serve Christ and Be Satisfied
When we have a real moment to make an impact for the kingdom (and non-believers know who the church folk are), we miss it big or take no further interest until there’s a spot for us to shine: “I led 50 people to Jesus on the mission trip!” or “Our church has won 500 souls to Christ so far this year!” On the contrary, it is the daily, seemingly insignificant opportunities that God is more concerned about with most of us.
The truth is, many people we will serve do not want to know God and will reject all offers of religion. Of course, we want folk to turn to Jesus, but our concern about “winning” people shouldn’t always be the aim. In fact, God may even be reprimanding us for a hyper-evangelicalism, our feeling that anything we do toward those who need help must be preachy and witnessing and converting. But this attitude can rob us from demonstrating the simple love that expects nothing in return.
So, for instance, if a person who always treated us badly that we help should, thereafter, continue to treat us disdainfully, our behavior toward them will remain genuine if it was first done in service to God. This is the safeguard that our actions are not lost and wasted. We err to forget that God is our sole audience and commands us, “Be me to them—period.” The problem for many of us, tragically, is that we’re not as Christian as we think we are.
Jesus finishes his discourse with a classy, in-your-face, moral self-assessment: “‘Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?’ The experts in the law replied, ‘The one who had mercy on him.’ Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise'” (Luke 10:36-43).
In Colossians 2:16-23, the apostle Paul presents a straightforward defense against legalistic injunctions being forced upon the Colossian church. To the quick reader it may seem as though Paul is being critical of the Law of Moses since many people lump anything having to do with rules and religion in the word legalism. But this is not the case.
In fact, Paul shows great respect for the Law of Moses in Galatians 3 and Romans 7. For instance, he says, “Is the law sinful? Certainly not! Nevertheless, I would not have known what sin was had it not been for the law” (Rom. 7:7) and “So then, the law is holy, and the commandment is holy, righteous and good” (v. 12).
Distinguishing Law and Legalism
What the apostle is doing for the Colossian Christians is liberating them from human rules. Paul understood Torah very well—remember that great resume of his in Philippians 3? He was once a Pharisee. Judaism was his heritage and the ground from which Christianity—Christ himself—sprang.
I think it would be fair to speculate that he could respect the devout Jew who did his or her best to follow God’s requirements apart from the knowledge of Christ or with hesitance or resistance to the new Jesus religion. The Law was indeed the tutor in righteousness (Gal. 3:24); however, altering one’s understanding of religious conviction is always difficult. Paul would have recalled his own dramatic crossroads.
What Paul is fighting in Colossians are additional, burdensome do’s and don’ts that false teachers would make these new Christians believe were obligatory for acceptance with God. This is legalism. Moreover, these teachers used the Law of Moses as a guise for their own extra rules, thus turning people away from Christ and back to works religion and locking their minds to wrong teaching.
The Treachery of Rule Givers
The implications in these verses are many. In fact, the warning remains as important to Christians today as it was then. I find in Paul’s words the increasing need for biblical teaching. The apostle was cutting away the excess that kept these Christians laden down. In a day when pulpits are overrun with newfangled concepts, self-help tactics, and glitzy preaching, Christians too stand in need of strong biblical teaching that will excise anything that is not verily the word of God.
We would be remiss to think that teaching like this comes devoid of ulterior motive, which is often the grasp for human control, a notion present in Paul’s argument. Rules, religious and otherwise, can be powerful because they bear, or are assigned, moral and ethical value. For this reason they can be used to control and manipulate. Rule-givers and paragons typically gain control when adherents go astray or are too weak to question authority.
This is exactly what Paul explains about the Law in Romans 7:7-25. The law of God was (and is) good for us, but, sin being found in us, we are beaten down with condemnation for our moral failure resulting from the command (Rom. 7:8). Now to the Colossians, Paul tells them that not only has Christ liberated them by fulfilling this Law completely and perfectly, but these false teachers are adding requirements that God never authorized.
It is also the character of the rule, or the spirit of the law, that is important. God’s rules never come to bash or condemn (cf. John 3:17; Rom. 8:1-2); so we can be confident that our honest effort counts with God. He is always firm but loving. This is yet another way of discerning what is and is not of God.
The End of the Matter
The significance is this: Sin must be sin for God’s sake, never for humans’ sake. What God calls good and bad, right and wrong, is what is indeed moral and immoral, ethical and unethical, and no person can add to it. Also, what we can assess to be the heart of God on an issue, by careful study of God’s holy character, the example of scripture, and the teaching of historical Christian writers, is sufficient to answer the questions of generations today and tomorrow.
This should make an end of debates on “petty sin” issues, like dancing and drinking, and some larger issues fit here, too.
We have to be sure that our answers do not make God and the Bible say things they never do. Sometimes our brand of religion promotes extra-biblical requirements, and we should be resolute to get biblical answers about why those requirements exist. What we may discover is that, although sincere, there is more to be gained by the leadership with certain rules being kept than for the laity being saved by their strict obedience.
A 'Mike' for Christ 