connecting is seeing

Early the next morning Jesus went out to an isolated place. The crowds searched everywhere for him, and when they finally found him, they begged him not to leave them. But he replied, “I must preach the Good News of the Kingdom of God in other towns, too, because that is why I was sent.” So he continued to travel around, preaching in synagogues throughout Judea.                   Luke 4:42-44

 

Jesus repeatedly finds time for quiet, time for isolation with the Father. Honestly, if Jesus can do it—with all the crowds seeking him out—what excuse could we possibly come up with for our schedules being too full? For us finding no time? I have so much on my plate, so many responsibilities and things to do, but there are no crowds screaming for my time, no demands so lofty or varied as what was asked of Jesus.

 

This was Jesus’ practice; his habit. He found time to get away, to be alone. And we know from other places where this exercise is spoken of in the gospels that Jesus did so to pray. He was communing with the Father.

 

What is so compelling to me here is what he gains from this time apart. He is gaining clarity. He is gaining the Father’s vision for making decisions. The verses preceding these in Luke 4 show a Jesus who is doing the miraculous and doing it on a grand scale. He is healing, he is restoring, he is setting people free from physical, emotional, and spiritual bondage. What could be better? Surely he should spend the rest of his days on earth continuing this until all within reach are healed. Shouldn’t he?

 

Jesus is doing a good thing. He is doing a right thing. He is beating back the affects of sin and corruption, destroying the result of our depravity by making whole those who are broken. But then he gets away, he gets himself apart from the good things he is doing to seek the Father, and he comes back clear on his next move. Clear on his calling to go and do something else; something other than the good thing he was doing.

 

Sometimes the good things we are doing aren’t the best things God is calling us to.

 

Sometimes God has a different plan for us. Not because the things we are engaged in are bad, but because God has something more for us. Something different. How could Jesus, in the face of those broken people who are begging him not to leave, turn from them and go? How could anything be more important than meeting the needs of those hurting people?

 

He could go because he had spent time connecting with the Father. Time apart from all the distractions of the good, to find the best. Standing far off in the present time it is easy for us to be glad and grateful that he went on from there. Easy to be relieved because we now have all the other teachings, all the other miracles in other places to learn from. And most importantly, we have the sacrifice of his life for our eternal life. His death for our forgiveness. But in that moment it could have been hard to see the good in his leaving; especially had we been standing in the crowd. Most certainly if we were there begging for temporary healing.

 

If ever there was a clear example of our need for time along with God, this is it. Clarity for the journey may sometimes only come when we’ve spent time with the one we are journeying towards. There are so many good things to be done, we need to seek out what the best things are. What has God designed us for, called us to, put in place for us?

 

Time alone in prayer gives a more clear vision. It can give us the Father’s eyes and heart for our own trek towards him. Jesus comes away from isolation with  the Father and he comes saying, “…that is why I was sent…” The next steps are clear, the path laid out, the vision captured. I’m not implying that Jesus didn’t know before this what he should be doing, but simply that he came away with a sense of urgency and conviction. And in truth, we don’t have the clarity Jesus started with. Most of us don’t have any real conviction about our steps. We need the Father’s vision, the Father’s heart. We need the Father.

 

It is time to set aside too busy and too distracted for some time, just a little time to sit with the Father. Time to listen, time to lean in and just be with the one who calls us and saves us and sends us. Time to see the best and not just the good.

 

when God changes his mind

Then the Lord said, “I have seen how stubborn and rebellious these people are. Now leave me alone so my fierce anger can blaze against them, and I will destroy them. Then I will make you, Moses, into a great nation.” But Moses tried to pacify the Lord his God. “O Lord !” he said. “Why are you so angry with your own people whom you brought from the land of Egypt with such great power and such a strong hand? Why let the Egyptians say, `Their God rescued them with the evil intention of slaughtering them in the mountains and wiping them from the face of the earth’? Turn away from your fierce anger. Change your mind about this terrible disaster you have threatened against your people! Remember your servants Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. You bound yourself with an oath to them, saying, `I will make your descendants as numerous as the stars of heaven. And I will give them all of this land that I have promised to your descendants, and they will possess it forever.’” So the Lord changed his mind about the terrible disaster he had threatened to bring on his people.            Exodus 32:9-14

 

 

So God said, “These people are wicked and sinful and I’m done with them. I’ll wipe them out and start over with just Moses.”

 

Moses replied, “Don’t do that, Lord! And here is a list of reasons why…”

 

And then God said, “Hmm…okay. I’ll not do that.”

 

That’s my summary/paraphrase of the interaction between Moses and God. Am I reading this right? Did God actually change his mind? Does God change his mind?

 

Just as times in the past , I was tempted to just skip right past this piece of Exodus and go to the next thing. Sometimes it’s easier (in the short run) to ignore potentially perplexing passages. (Wow that’s a bit of a mouthful!) But I think it’s important to acknowledge and consider what’s going on here.

 

Does God change his mind? I think there are a lot of us with the tendency to just automatically—without thinking it through—respond with a resounding NO! But here we see Moses interacting with God and God says this is what I’m going to do and then Moses speaks and God changes his mind.

 

The more I think about this the less troublesome it is to me. At first glance the idea sparks all kinds of issues and concerns. Namely, if God is the same yesterday, today and forever then how could he change his mind? Doesn’t this call his entire character—and Scripture—into question? The simple answer is no. Think about this with me: if you make an announcement about something you are going to do and someone comes up to you with concerns or just to plea for a different approach, would changing your mind imply that you—as a person—had somehow changed? That you were no longer who you used to be? Certainly not. What it means is that you are in relationship with people. That there is give and take in your world.

 

Secondly, is the whole concern about God revealing that his decision had not been right? Can God ever be wrong? Doesn’t changing his mind once Moses speaks reveal that God had been incorrect? Again, I think the answer is no. It would be completely right for God to demand payment for the sinfulness of the Israelites. They had been worshipping an idol. To decide that he was done with them is completely within God’s rights and completely in sync with his character, which cannot stand sin. On the other hand, to show grace and mercy is also completely within his character. To hear Moses making a plea for the people and to respond to the mercy of Moses does not somehow imply that God realized he had been wrong. Instead it shows something far more valuable and important.

 

God is listening to Moses.

 

He’s not patronizing him by sitting there while Moses rants and pleads only to pat him on the head when it’s over and say, “Thanks for your thoughts, now I’m going to do this.” God was actually listening. Hearing Moses. And taking into consideration what Moses had to say.

 

This is relationship. God and humanity. Give and take. God is charge and in control, but for some reason he offers us a voice in things. He will hear our words and actually consider our desires. He does not need to do this, he chooses it. And it doesn’t mean he’ll always do what we want. I could make a long, long list of all the people in the Bible that wanted something different than what God ultimately did. (I could also make a long list in my own life.) But this passage gives us hope and encouragement.

 

God is listening. God is hearing. And he is even considering the words we speak. Why he would be so gracious to us, I’ll never know, but he is and I am grateful. So as you encounter God today, as you approach him remember: he is listening, this is a relationship, your input is valued by God.

 

trusting in me

Then the whole community of Israel set out from Elim and journeyed into the wilderness of Sin, between Elim and Mount Sinai. They arrived there on the fifteenth day of the second month, one month after leaving the land of Egypt. There, too, the whole community of Israel complained about Moses and Aaron.
   ”If only the Lord had killed us back in Egypt,” they moaned. “There we sat around pots filled with meat and ate all the bread we wanted. But now you have brought us into this wilderness to starve us all to death.”
   Then the Lord said to Moses, “Look, I’m going to rain down food from heaven for you. Each day the people can go out and pick up as much food as they need for that day. I will test them in this to see whether or not they will follow my instructions.            Exodus 16:1-4

 

I’m reading about these Israelites and the fact that they are complaining…again. Honestly, it’s a little bit annoying. I do not enjoy listening to others complain. I don’t even enjoy listening to myself complain! Of, course, the irony is that when it’s me I’m always convinced there is some reasonable explanation for it, but that’s another issue.

 

I find myself sitting here and reading and wondering what their problem is. Was it not enough to see firsthand all the plagues that God brought about to free them from Israel? Was it not enough to actually pass through the Red Sea—with water walled up on both sides of them—and then see God bring the water crashing down on their enemies? How could they doubt so much?

 

But as I consider it I realize, they aren’t doubting, they are afraid. The difference is subtle, I think, but it’s real. I don’t think they are doubting that God is real or that he is powerful, they have seen that for themselves. But there is still something frightening about leading your families out into the desert with no real plan.

 

Where are we going? When will we get there? How will we sustain ourselves in the meantime?

 

It can be frightening to rely on someone else for your daily bread. It can be frightening to not be in complete control and need another to provide for you what you can’t provide for yourself. The real issue the Israelites are facing is the issue of surrender. Submission. They don’t need more faith, they need to apply the faith they already have. They don’t need to believe in God more, they need to place less trust in themselves.

 

Why does God give manna only for the day if not to push them into reliance and a surrender of control?

 

The Israelites didn’t really miss their old lives of slavery. They probably didn’t even have “pots filled with meat” or all the bread they wanted. We can be excessively creative with the way we remember our past. But they undoubtedly felt more in control—even as slaves. They knew what was expected, they knew the daily routine. There is a sense of security that comes with just knowing what’s next and how to navigate the day. When God throws us into unknown circumstances and stretches us to unknown outcomes we remember what’s always been true: we are not in control.

 

The illusion of control and security can be comforting…and addicting. It can also foster a deep sense of trust in self. For all the ways I know that trusting in me is a bad idea, still I run back to it time and again. So sometimes God leads us into the desert and then says, “I’ll give you what you need for today. Tomorrow we’ll take care of tomorrow and its needs.”

 

It’s not the way we like to live, for sure, but sometimes it’s the best way, the needed way. If today you find yourself in the desert, if today you find yourself with no sense of how tomorrow will play out, you may just be right where God wants you. It can be frightening when God leads us out with no real plan from our perspective. But these are times we have to choose, complaining and fear and a fighting for control. Or surrender and trust.  

 

if you will listen

It was there at Marah that the Lord set before them the following decree as a standard to test their faithfulness to him. He said, “If you will listen carefully to the voice of the Lord your God and do what is right in his sight, obeying his commands and keeping all his decrees, then I will not make you suffer any of the diseases I sent on the Egyptians; for I am the Lord who heals you.”           Exodus 15:25-26

 

Here where the water is bitter. Here where the future is unknown. Here where the level of security in circumstances is at it’s lowest…this is where God calls them to be a people who listen?! I would think that he might have brought this up at a better time. Like say, right after leading them through the Red Sea when trust is high and everyone is feeling good. But he waits until the water is bitter. He waits until they are at a point of demaanding and questioning. God waits until they need him to give and then he says to them, “If you will listen carefully…”

 

But I would rather talk. I would rather explain. I would much rather talk than listen. That’s our natural reaction, isn’t it? Even those of us who don’t talk out loud. We talk internally, telling ourselves how unfair it is. How wrong they are. How much better it should be. And on and on.

 

Listening though…well it’s hard to nail down what that even looks like or how it’s practiced. Especially when life is bitter. We would rarther complain, demand and question. We would rather something or someone just fix our circumstances than stop and listen.

 

It’s interesting to me that the Israelites seem to assume that the water being bitter is a probelm; that it’s wrong. Isn’t that just how we are? But how can God be the Lord that heals you if nothing is ever broken, if things are never bitter?

 

I’ve noticed in my life this tendency; this assuming that difficulty or the bitter water is a mistake, a problem. Maybe God was “asleep at the wheel” and it’s up to us to wake him up our complaining and demanding. But what if the bitter water, the unwanted experiences, the probelms we face, what if all of that is mean to be an experience with the Lord that heals us? What if it’s meant to be a call and an invitation to listen carefully?

 

What would it be like if when facing tragedy and difficulty we stopped challenging God’s faithfulness to us and started looking at our faithfulness to him? If we listen carefully we might just learn and hear and see that there is more going on than just what’s in front of us. We may experience something beyond the bitter taste in our mouths.

 

who done it?

Have you ever noticed how natural it feels to blame other people for stuff? It comes so easily we probably don’t even notice how often we do it. It’s second nature to experience a problem and automatically deduce who was responsible. And it’s often so subtle. Sure, sometimes in anger it can be a blatant I didn’t do it, she did! kind of blaming. But I think more often it comes in the form of just “letting people know” who forgot this or mistakenly left that. Or at work we want to clearly communicate whose responsibility that was. Or we say to someone else, “Oh, I was under the impression that you were handling that…”

 

We do like to blame others when bad or unwanted things happen. Much of the time we may even be right. What happened may indeed be their fault. But is it so necessary to always look to assign blame? Is it so important to always make sure that everyone around us knows exactly who fell short? Would it be the end of the world if someone mistakenly thought we were the one who blew it when it was actually someone else?        

 

Is the most important thing identifying who was at fault?

 

Usually, no. Granted, when laws are broken or people are harmed finding out who did what can be important. But honestly, most of our most passionate attempts to find fault are on much, much smaller scales and the stakes are usually only as high as our pride.

 

I’m thinking about this because as I continue to read through Exodus I’m into chapter five. This is the point where Moses and Aaron are finally standing before Pharaoh. They make their plea—not to let the Israelites go, but just to let them go out into the desert for three days to worship God.

 

Pharaoh, angry at the intrusion on his slaves and the threat to their productivity not only denies the request but increases the work load on the Israelites.

 

“This is what Pharaoh says: I will not provide any more straw for you. Go and get it yourselves. Find it wherever you can. But you must produce just as many bricks as before!”     Exodus 5:10-11

 

Now, remembering how Exodus 4 ends—with the Israelites hearing Moses’ story and being moved by God’s concern for them to the point of worshipping him together—you might think they would take this setback in stride. Certainly they will be upset, and of course they will be unhappy at the added work, but they’ll handle it, right? Wrong. They blame Moses. Immediately.

 

As they left Pharaoh’s court, they confronted Moses and Aaron, who were waiting outside for them. The foremen said to them, “May the Lord judge and punish you for making us stink before Pharaoh and his officials. You have put a sword into their hands, an excuse to kill us!”     Exodus 5:20-21

 

Things just took a bad turn and so suddenly God’s concern, God’s plan, God’s rescue is all forgotten. The people are suffering and this didn’t all just come together clean and easy so they look to blame. Why is it that we sometimes make the assumption that if God is helping it will come without pain or problem?

 

And then there’s Moses. He’s spoken directly to God. He’s seen the miracles and received the pep talk and the plan first hand. You know—the burning bush and all that. He’ll handle this well won’t he?

 

Then Moses went back to the Lord and protested, “Why have you brought all this trouble on your own people, Lord? Why did you send me? Ever since I came to Pharaoh as your spokesman, he has been even more brutal to your people. And you have done nothing to rescue them!”  Exodus 5:22-23

 

Moses blames God. It’s funny because I’m pretty sure God told Moses this was part of the plan. Not the exact way things went down, but the fact that Pharaoh’s heart would be less than sympathetic to the Israelites and their God. And still Moses panics. And blames.

 

What is it with us and the blaming? For people who’ve been given so much grace, mercy and forgiveness we sure do like to label the guilty.

 

I wonder if it has to do with how much value our society puts on being right. Or with how little we appreciate what Jesus has done for us. Or maybe it’s just a testimony to the continued brokenness and depravity of our hearts. Whatever it is, we take far too much joy in identifying the ones who are to blame. And far too little interest in letting love cover it over.

 

When I look to living the radical life of Jesus I’m thinking that becoming disinterested in blaming and announcing those who are to blame may be more important than I would have first guessed.

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image from deviantArt.com 

a question of hardening

And the Lord told Moses, “When you arrive back in Egypt, go to Pharaoh and perform all the miracles I have empowered you to do. But I will harden his heart so he will refuse to let the people go.”         Exodus 4:21

 

Exodus 4 contains several issues that we might find difficult to deal with. Things that God says and does that may leave us feeling very uncomfortable. The first of which is found in Exodus 4:21. God seems to simply be saying, “I will decide for Pharaoh, he will not accept.”

 

Depending on your theological standing on the sovereignty of God this statement may either just be passed over without a second thought, or it may give you a deep desire to just ignore it and move on as fast as possible. But I think in the interest of true understanding of God and his Word we need to ask the question(s):

 

Did God make Pharaoh reject him so that he could use Pharaoh as a reason to display his power? Did God decide for Pharaoh if he would receive or reject the message of Moses—God’s message?

 

Now, please understand that I don’t wish to insight some sort of giant theological debate about free will versus God’s sovereignty with this post (when did that become an either/or issue anyway). And I have no intention of telling anyone how to come out on this. I simply wish to raise the question that this text begs us to ask and share some information I believe to be essential to coming to an understanding. And mostly I hope to nudge you into thinking more about God, who he is, and how he interacts with us. I guess I’m just here to stir the pot for you a little…in a good way of course.

 

So again, the question really is, what does it mean when God says, I will harden Pharaoh’s heart…”

 

Does God simply choose for us how we will respond to his calling, his message in our lives? It seems, at first reading that this is what he is doing with Pharaoh. Is that indeed the case, and if so, is that the way God works with everyone? Or is he only doing that with Pharaoh, or with select others?

 

Do see the dilemma that this can quickly become? How we see these verses in Exodus 4 has vast implications for how we see God, the gospel of Jesus, and our own role in the world.

 

Let me also say that if God chose to arbitrarily harden some hearts and soften some others and allow some to choose and others not to chose he certainly could do this. And I know that there are many within the Christian community who believe he does do this. I respect that position although in the interest of full disclosure I don’t believe it is what the whole of Scripture reveals about God and his offer of salvation. If you do, that is fine and I’m not trying to debate that here or convince you of something different here. What I do want to do is look honestly at the text we find ourselves with today: Exodus 4. We’ve been working our way through Exodus this month so we need to at least address what’s going on here.

 

Here is my brief finding and then I will simply wait to read your comments, thoughts or responses just to see your take on what is happening here.

 

At first read, as I said, this appears to be God unashamedly announcing that this gig is fixed. Pharaoh will be dis-allowed to make any choice other than the hardened, unbending, rebellious to God choice. But remembering that neither God, Moses nor Pharaoh originally spoke English (shock to us self-centered Americans!) and that the Bible was also not originally written in English (double scandal!!) is essential.

 

If we go back to the original Hebrew the word used for “hardened” is chazaq. While this word can be translated as “hardened” it has a broader meaning as well. So a good question to ask might be: how is this word chazaq used in the rest of the Old Testament?

 

This should give us some context for how the Biblical writers might have understood this word. Here are four examples. The words in all caps are the words translated from the original chazaq word. 

 

Once again the Israelites did evil in the Lord ‘s sight, and the Lord GAVE King Eglon of Moab CONTROL over Israel because of their evil.       Judges 3:12

 

Then Samson prayed to the Lord , “Sovereign Lord , remember me again. O God, please STRENGTHEN me just one more time.    Judges 16:28

 

Instead, your assistant, Joshua son of Nun, will lead the people into the land. ENCOURAGE him, for he will lead Israel as they take possession of it.       Deuteronomy 1:38

 

Instead, commission Joshua and ENCOURAGE AND STRENGTHEN him, for he will lead the people across the Jordan. He will give them all the land you now see before you as their possession. Deuteronomy 3:28

 

So for some reason the Bible translators who made the transition from Hebrew to English for us used the word “harden” in Exodus (it is done again several times in Exodus 7) but in other places such as Deuteronomy (same original author) and in Judges the word is translated as something more along the lines of encouraging or strengthening what is already there.

 

To me this does not mean that God just decides for Pharaoh that he will reject Moses—and ultimately God—but that he will simply handed Pharaoh over to the desires of his heart. God simply strengthened what was already going on in Pharaoh so as to use it for his own purposes. It reminds me much of the ideas presented in Romans 1 when God lets us go only so far and then just hands us over, essentially saying, “If that is what you want you can have all of it.”

 

I realize this is more of an academic approach to the Scriptures than we usually take and it’s not something I intend to do often, but sometimes it is needed for addressing some of the tougher questions.

 

Perhaps you agree with me on my take of what this means in Exodus 4 and perhaps you don’t. Either way, chances are high that you will think more about God today than you had intended. And you might even do some digging of your own. If that’s the case, then I’ve done what I intended!

 

I welcome your thoughts, questions and perspectives.

 

seeing no one

One day, after Moses had grown up, he went out to where his own people were and watched them at their hard labor. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his own people. Glancing this way and that and seeing no one, he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.     Exodus 2:11-12

 

This rings true…too true. Not the killing part. Rest assured, that does not ring true. I haven’t killed anyone. What I mean is the phrasing of it. “Glancing this way and that and seeing no one, he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.”

 

Glancing this way and that he…and hid…

 

How many times in life do we look around—glance this way and that—and then act? An action we wouldn’t have done had we known anyone would see. Then after acting there is the hiding. There is always the hiding. I’m amazed at how much of our lives involves the hiding of things, actions, behaviors, thoughts, attitudes. It is the most ingrained response we have. We do wrong, and then we hide. It goes all the way back to Adam and Eve.  And the better I get to know the people in my life, the more I realize how pervasive it is for all of us. So often we don’t even realize we’re doing it.

 

Moses saw no one, and so he did what he wouldn’t have done otherwise. Is the problem that we have so disconnected ourselves from the reality of God that we forget—or don’t care—that he sees even when no one else does? Or is it that we just want what we want so much that nothing else matters? Maybe it’s that we just don’t think at all. The glancing this way and that is just a reaction, but there is no real thinking involved. I don’t know, but we do this and we do it often.

 

We use words we wouldn’t use if others were around. We look at things we wouldn’t look at if others were around. We become people we wouldn’t become if we knew others would see. Then there is the hiding of it. And for this we pay a price. There is always a price for living in secret. Always.

 

The next day he went out and saw two Hebrews fighting. He asked the one in the wrong, “Why are you hitting your fellow Hebrew?” The man said, “Who made you ruler and judge over us? Are you thinking of killing me as you killed the Egyptian?” Then Moses was afraid and thought, “What I did must have become known.” Exodus 2:13-14

 

Sometimes the price is just people finding out. People realizing that we aren’t who we’ve been pretending to be. Moses finds out that hiding things is far harder to accomplish than at first imagined. And then there is the second price he pays.

 

When Pharaoh heard of this, he tried to kill Moses, but Moses fled from Pharaoh and went to live in Midian, where he sat down by a well.                       Exodus 2:15

 

Moses fled.

 

Why is it that secret actions and the hiding of things in our lives is so often accompanied by running away? We flee relationships. We flee situations. We flee responsibility. We flee intimacy. When we live with actions we did because we didn’t see anyone looking; when we live with secrets we’ve hidden away so that no one will find out we will often find ourselves fleeing from all sorts of things.

We won’t always make the right choice. That’s a given. But we can certainly work to be people who don’t decide what we are going to do or say based on whether or not we see anyone looking. And we can choose to walk in the light. To be people of honesty. We can choose to stop fleeing, to stop hiding and burying bad choices and weaknesses. We can choose a different way. Or, like Moses, we can choose the way that leads to desert living and sheep herding.

 

When did seeing other people looking become a determining factor for how we react? How we live? Let’s choose a different way; a better way.

 

It’s time to come out from hiding; time to stop fleeing; it’s time to live.

 

less is more

When Jesus comes on the scene John the Baptist already has a good thing going. He is calling people to repentance. He is preparing the way. He is working for the kingdom and waiting for the Messiah. And people are listening—John has their attention. But when Jesus shows up he starts to draw all to himself. It’s the way it was meant to be. We are drawn to those who proclaim the coming of God, but when God himself comes, the voices no longer hold our attention. We want to be with God.

 

Now John’s disciples are concerned. They worry that everyone is going over to Jesus.

 

They came to John and said to him, “Rabbi, that man who was with you on the other side of the Jordan–the one you testified about–well, he is baptizing, and everyone is going to him.”   John 3:26

 

It’s funny. They had been following John and hearing him speak day after day about the coming One—the one from God who would come and save. Day after day John spoke and John waited. Day after day he knew it wouldn’t be long. And when Jesus comes John testifies about him. He identifies Jesus as the One. All of this and still when people start paying more attention to Jesus than John the disciples of John are concerned. They chafe at the idea of another taking the attention, getting the spotlight, being more popular.

 

John’s response is brilliant.

 

He must become greater; I must become less.          John 3:30

 

Jesus must become greater, we must become less. This sounds so simple. In concept it is simple. And yet…we struggle against it. Why is that?

 

Why is it so hard to work without recognition? Why do we want people to know what we’ve done or to recognize that we are “needed” in the Body? Why do we wish for thank yous and accolades? Why do we seek titles or authority?

 

What makes it so hard to serve secretly? Why, if Christ must become greater and we must become less do we seek to build ourselves up, always paint ourselves in the best light possible and worry about the opinions other have of us?

 

If it is truly not about us but about Jesus why do we fret so much about us?

 

I hear the words, “He must become greater; I must become less.” and my heart agrees. I like it…in theory. But in practice, I often like myself more. I want my dues, I like my rights, I enjoy my approval from others. So becoming less is harder in life than in lip service. Allowing Jesus to become more in the everyday is far more painful than in the “someday.”

 

Easier said than done fits the description of becoming less and seeing Jesus become greater in my life. And John is remarkable at this. He has great humility and seemed to always keep in perspective the reality that it was never about him. It was always about Jesus. He sees himself as the servant—the unworthy servant.

 

He is the one who comes after me, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. John 1:27

 

It is one thing to appreciate Jesus as Savior and to praise him for his grace. It is far more to submit, to surrender, to become less. It is a high and holy calling to be slave of Christ and adopt an attitude that says, “All of my life, all of my energy, all that I am is for him, not for myself.”

 

But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.        Romans 6:22 

the cost of free

It’s an odd thing to call salvation free. I mean, on the one hand, it is free. Totally free. Grace comes to us without requiring payment and without regard for our history. It is simply ours if we want it; if we will accept it from Jesus. But it’s the most costly free we will ever encounter.

 

Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? For if he lays the foundation and is not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.          Luke 14:28-33

 

In truth, it’s not the salvation that’s costly. As I said, that’s free. Grace is grace because it’s free. But it’s the life that comes after accepting, the life of following, that comes at a cost. And it costs us everything.

 

But maybe this is misleading too. It’s not a cost in the sense of paying for something. What we have from Jesus—the Life abundant he describes—remains forever free. But the life of following this Jesus, the life of relationship has a “cost” and that cost is everything. The word I’m looking for here is one none of us likes. It’s a word we avoid and when we say it we usually think of other people and how it relates to them. It’s easier than thinking of it in terms of our selves.

 

Surrender.

 

That’s the word. And in a sense, surrender is all about cost. It’s all about giving up and handing over. It’s about submitting and relinquishing control. And we just don’t like this kind of thing. But Jesus wants us to know up front: grace is free, but living with Jesus will cost us everything. That goes back to the reality that he must be first. And so he lays it out here, talking about the cost and making sure we take the time to consider it and commit to it.

 

For the second time in just a few sentences Jesus uses the words. “…cannot be my disciple.” He used it in verse 17, which we looked at yesterday, and he uses it here in verse 33.

 

“In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple.”

 

He’s not saying we aren’t allowed to own possessions, and he’s not saying that when we accept the saving Jesus offers we should become homeless. This isn’t about possessions really. It’s about us and our heart and our priorities. Again it’s about surrender. It’s about giving up control of our stuff. Letting God take priority over everything else.

 

The difficult thing about this is that it’s easy to say we give up everything when we still hold it in our hands. It’s hard to hold on loosely and fight the tendency to grip our stuff firmly. We grow attached, we find security, and we even tend to place our identity in our stuff. And Jesus is saying, “If you want to follow me you can’t do that. You have to hold it with an open hand. You have to let me be in control of it. You have to give it up.”

 

Today I’m thinking about the stuff I have, the roles I fulfill, the people I spend my time with. I’m considering the ways in which I let that stuff define me. I’m considering the ways in which I let that stuff consume me. And I’m praying for the courage to give it up and follow.

 

words to offend

Large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and turning to them he said: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters–yes, even his own life–he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.      Luke 14:25-27 

 

If these words of Jesus don’t make you a bit uncomfortable then perhaps nothing will. These are harsh words—really harsh. And I think they are meant to offend, meant to make us uncomfortable. Jesus goes on after this to talk about counting the cost of following him and so I think this is an intentional lead in to ensure that we can say with Peter that we have left everything.

 

So I say again, Jesus is intending to offend here. He is looking to find our limits, our boundaries. So he uses words like hate and references our family. He speaks of carrying our own cross; an instrument of torture and a curse. But he is not just trying to offend, he is also speaking truth. He is tipping his hand, letting us in on the secret: following Jesus leads to abundant life, but it does not lead by the high or easy way. It does not follow the path of the casual or the fair-weather. It is real, it is raw, and it demands first place. No exceptions. Not for family or for self; not for reputation or pride. First or nothing.

 

This is something I love about Jesus. He pulls no punches. He isn’t selling anything. This is just how it is. You don’t need to sell life. You don’t need to sell peace. You don’t need to sell real connection with the real God. These are the kinds of things that self themselves. But Jesus doesn’t want us to start following without getting it; without understanding that the price is high and the life comes at the death of all else.

 

And I think this is where the church has failed. The church-turned-amusement-park where counting numbers is king and being cool and hip is…well cool and hip. I’m not saying we shouldn’t want as many as possible to come and join us. We should. We have the message of life after all! And I’m not saying we shouldn’t be cool and try to connect culturally and socially. Again, we most definitely should. I am sick of the perception that in order to be a Christian you have to check your clue at the door and become socially irrelevant. I don’t think that’s necessary. In fact I’d go so far as to say it’s ignoring an essential part of the gospel all together. We are expected to be in touch and relevant.

 

But the church today has shied away from speaking harsh words, even though they are true. We’ve bought in to this mentality that the world is right (at least the American world) and being politically correct really is most important.

 

Now I will say, not all churches are like this. This is a generalization. I am thrilled to belong to one that isn’t this way. And I’ve led churches that strived not to be this way. But I’ve also walked away from ones that wouldn’t speak the harsh words. The disappointing truth however is that far too many are this way. And with so many churches that only want to woo and never rebuke, with so many that only want to attract but never hold accountable, more and more young believers get left in the lurch. It feels like a bait and switch to only speak lovely and lilting words and then try to live that out in a harsh and unforgiving world. It doesn’t work.

 

And yet somehow we have sacrificed harsh words that help people know that being a disciple of Jesus is hard. Maybe we do it for popularity or because of a fear of rejection. What ever the reason, all too often we as the church we have done this.

 

There is a multitude of loving and gracious and hopeful words in the Bible. And I love them. I cling to them. But they have to be balanced with the harsh reality that truly following Jesus is only done by making him first. Following Jesus means we die, everyday to everything. Following Jesus means there is only Jesus and those are harsh words.

 

God, we need strength for these kinds of words. We need courage to speak these words to others. And we need eyes to see where in our lives we still put ourselves first. Help us make you first.