a call to remember

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called “the uncircumcision” by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands—remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.   Ephesians 2:11-13

 

 Remember that at one time you were separated from God. Remember that you were an alien—you had no belonging and no understanding of God. Remember that you were once separated. You were without God.

 

It’s good to remember, even if what we are remembering is itself not good. It’s good to keep in mind where we’ve come from and what we’ve been saved from. It’s good to have this kind of perspective. Remembering that God has given us all we have and made us all we are. Remembering that when left to ourselves we were without hope and without God.

 

 

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.           

1 Peter 2:9-10

  

Remembering what we once were (and were not) makes being who we are now all the more sweet. It’s harder to rail against the church with all its foibles (and there certainly are a lot we could get distracted with!) when we remember that we now belong to a people when once we were alone. When we remember that this church is God’s royal priesthood and holy nation and that we are inseparable from them—we are them! It’s also harder to be malcontented with the day’s little bumps and struggles when we are remembering that we were once separated from Christ and in utter darkness, but now we walk in his marvelous light.

  

You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God redeemed you; therefore I command you this today.         Deuteronomy 15:15

 

 It’s remarkable the way the book of Deuteronomy is filled with calls to remember. At least four times the call is a distinct call to “remember when you were slaves.” There are also a multitude of calls to remember sins committed and God’s faithfulness, but God goes out of his way to have Moses call the people to the specific memory of slavery. He does this repeatedly. How better to produce thankfulness and gratitude for our rescue than to remember what we once were?

 

But what if I came to Christ as a young child? Doesn’t that make these memories less sweet? Doesn’t it mean less because I had less time and freedom to allow my sinful nature full access to all its corruptive potential?

 

Consider again the Israelites who were commanded to remember they were slaves. Do you think it meant less to those who were children when they left Egypt simply because they had not yet had the opportunity to bear the full brunt and punishment of their slavery? Was the present less sweet? Were they less enslaved in Egypt than their parents? Certainly not. If anything, they should have greater thankfulness from the realization that God brought them out so soon; so quickly before they were subjugated to their slavery as adults. Just because they were children didn’t make them less enslaved. The same can be said of those of us who came to Christ as young children. We were not less enslaved, less sinful, less corrupted and hopeless. We were on the same trajectory as all human beings, and God saw fit to rescue us.

 

Remember that you were spearated from Christ, but now you who once were far off have been brought near by his blood. This is the most beautiful of memories.

 

he goes before us

So many things happened on that Thursday. The day right before Jesus was killed was indeed a busy one.

 

There were feet to wash. There was bread and wine to be given new meaning. There were prayers to pray and anguish to feel. There were hymns to sing and betrayal to be acted on. There was talk of death and promises.

 

In all of it, Jesus goes before us. He leads the way, showing us how to love well—even those who would betray us. He gives high and holy attention to the act of serving one another by serving those who had argued for place and position. He enlightens the disciples about the coming of his death and his willingness to go to it out of obedience. He gives us new traditions to practice so we never forget his body and his blood. He offers hope in the face of apparent tragedy.

 

He goes before us.

 

Jesus even leads the way in exposing our sin and waywardness. Even as he is about to die for us he acknowledges that we really aren’t up to the task of standing by him, remaining faithful, and unashamedly call him our Lord. He knows us.

 

Then Jesus said to them, “You will all fall away because of me this night. For it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”      Matthew 26:31-32

 

But he promises, yet again on this Thursday, to go before us.

 

“But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”

 

Even though all the disciples are going to fail him, even though they are all going to run when things go wrong, Jesus wants them to know that he’ll go before them. He’ll be ready to meet them. When it comes time for the resurrection reunion, Jesus will be there first.

 

Is there anything that underscores the beauty of the grace of Jesus like his willingness to bring us back to him when we sin? His leads us in our redemption.

 

He goes before us even in this. He died to make us his own and then he rushes ahead of the betrayers, the fear mongers, the embarrassed followers, to claim them as his own with love and the gift of peace.

 

This is Jesus, our Savior.

 

He goes before us in death, before us to defeat sin, before us in resurrection, before us in eternal glory. He is Jesus.

 

Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead.           1 Corinthians 15:20-21

 

born again

Through Christ you have come to trust in God. And you have placed your faith and hope in God because he raised Christ from the dead and gave him great glory. You were cleansed from your sins when you obeyed the truth, so now you must show sincere love to each other as brothers and sisters. Love each other deeply with all your heart. For you have been born again, but not to a life that will quickly end. Your new life will last forever because it comes from the eternal, living word of God.            1 Peter 1:21-23

 

In our church we’re working our way through John’s gospel. This past Sunday we were in John 3 and our pastor was preaching about that term. You know the one…the one in John 3 that has so much baggage attached to it? The one that can make us feel awkward or just plain fanatical at its mention. That term that most of us Christians today really hesitate to use.

 

Born Again

 

What’s the deal with that phrase? Why do we shy away from it? Is it the weird, out of touch Christians we’ve known who seem to throw those words at people like they explains everything at their mere mention? Is it TV evangelism that’s given us cause to shy away? Probably. And for a lot of other reasons too. People can sometimes take the great and awesome truths of the Bible and distort them. They (and by “they” I mean us) can sometimes ruin the beauty and imagery of biblical word pictures with all our own junk. So for a lot of us this phrase born again has some baggage.

 

But Sunday we were reminded that this is indeed a Biblical phrase. It’s a Jesus phrase. And no matter what our own issues with it might be, if Jesus calls us to be born again we should probably stop trying to insert our own verbage and instead redeem the description given to us. We are born again. When we came to and accept Christ we started new and fresh. We hit the reset button.

 

I like how Peter writes about it in 1 Peter. “You have been born again, but not to a life that will quickly end.” Some translations say something like, “not of perishable seed, but of imperishable”. What good news! Why did we think we needed better terminology again?

 

We’ve been born again. Born of immortal stock. Sure we still face death on this earth, death for our bodies. But it’s temporary. It’s just for a time. And even then it’s only for the physical. The spiritual knows no death. And the day will come crashing in where Jesus returns and restores and reunites soul and body and resurrection commences.

 

But notice why Peter even mentions it. Why he even brings up this truth that we’ve been born again. It’s the context for why we should love one another deeply. We have all eternity in front of us. Eternity with and because of the great glory of the resurrected Jesus. Does this not stir us to love well? To love deeply? It should.

 

We have, because of Jesus, been forgiven, cleansed, made new. Our heart of stone has been replaced with a heart of flesh. We’ve been washed and cleaned up and given a new beginning. We’ve been given all this and never have deserved it. How can we not show great and amazing love for others?

 

We are the born again. The new starters. Those of the glorious, resurrected One. Yes, I think it is time to redeem this phrase; to reclaim our high and honorable moniker. We are born again. And this truth stirs within in us a deep love and sincerity. We have been given much—been given all—and there is no reason why we should not embrace these words of Jesus.

 

“I tell you the truth, unless you are born again, you cannot see the Kingdom of God.”        John 3:3

 

consequences

The Lord said to Moses, “Get going, you and the people you brought up from the land of Egypt. Go up to the land I swore to give to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I told them, `I will give this land to your descendants.’ And I will send an angel before you to drive out the Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites. Go up to this land that flows with milk and honey. But I will not travel among you, for you are a stubborn and rebellious people. If I did, I would surely destroy you along the way.”       Exodus 33:1-3

 

Sin has consequences.

 

I realize that in many places within the Christian church the consequences of sin are beaten over people’s heads and guilt is utilized to try and manipulate people into behaving. But just as the consequences of sin can be misused and overly focused on the reverse can also hold true. Sometimes in a culture that preaches and celebrates grace this reality can be forgotten. Sin has consequences, even when there is grace and forgiveness.

 

God said to his people, “I will not travel among you…”

 

Consequences.

 

God displays amazing mercy and grace. He doesn’t completely destroy a people who prostituted themselves for an easier religion and momentary pleasure as soon as they thought God wasn’t looking. He could have. But just because God gave forgiveness and mercy doesn’t mean the matter is settled. Our sin, whether great or small (not really sure when we started ranking sins), causes all kinds of ripple effects in our life and the lives of others. Consequences.

 

There are some unstoppable ramifications of sinning. When we rebel against God and his ways and his values we set in motion the fruits of our choices. Some of these things cannot—or will not—be stopped. And so the world continues to deteriorate and rot. Because sin has consequences.

 

For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are. Against its will, all creation was subjected to God’s curse. But with eager hope, the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us.         Romans 8:19-23

 

And until that day when Jesus restores all things we wait, and we groan, and we decay; because sin has consequences.

 

For the Israelites the consequences are painful and abrupt and, I would imagine, very devastating. God, who has led them out, who has fed them daily; God who has walked before them and behind them; God who has been in their midst since coming out of Egypt is not going to travel among them for a while. It’s not that he isn’t going at all. God just needs some space.

 

Ultimately this is the largest, most consistent effect of sin. It causes separation from God. It divides and distances us and our life suffers for lack of presence. This is why the world decays. This is why it’s all falling down around us. This is why we have sickness and pain and brokenness. Sin has consequences and chief among them is a God who withdraws from the world and from the people of sin. Not completely or permanently, but with ramifications for a people created for the sole purpose of relationship with the Creator.

 

It’s easy to forget. It’s more desirable to just focus on the grace of God and be thankful for forgiveness and forget about consequences. Then we wonder why we feel lost and alone and distant from God. He forgives, yes. He always forgives when we repent. But sin has consequences and there is ground lost and intimacy severed and distance created when we sin. And it takes time and effort to restore what we lose. Sometimes God withdraws to a place a little off from where we are. Not to punish us or torture us, but because sin wounds him. Sin angers him. Sin is a rebellious, selfish act against him. And sometimes the God who consumes all space and time needs a little space and time. And sometimes we need to be reminded of the painful truth that when we sin, even with grace and forgiveness at the ready, our sin has set brokenness in motion. Until Jesus comes back and puts an end to all sin our sin will continue to wreak havoc and decay.

 

There are consequences for our sin, and chief among them is the way it wounds our relationship with the only one who can free us from this sin. Perhaps if we keep this in the forefront of our minds it will help us on this journey, in these choices, and even when we sin, to make things right again.

 

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 

get the plank out

Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in someone else’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say, ‘Friend, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from the other person’s eye.         Luke 6:41-42

 

I used to take these words of Jesus to mean “mind your own business, you have enough issues of your own to deal with” or something along those lines. And indeed, it does tend to read that way. Jesus refers to the speck in the other person’s eye and the plank in our own eye. It sort in feels like, at least at first read, to imply that my own issues are big enough to keep me from correcting or pointing out issues in others.

 

But when I read it again…and again. When I consider it within the larger context of the gospel of Luke and the Bible as a whole, I don’t think that’s what Jesus is getting at. I don’t think Jesus is saying, “Mind your own problems and stay out of other people’s issues.” It’s inconsistent with the Bible’s general call for accountability within community. It’s inconsistent with Jesus’ own behavior towards his disciples (like Jesus calling Peter “Satan” and a stumbling block). And it’s not consistent with the accountability the New Testament church utilizes in calling sin out in one another. Multitudes of examples come to mind here, but I’m particularly thinking of Peter and Paul in Galatians 2.

 

So what is Jesus saying if he isn’t saying to keep our nose out of other people’s business and to stop trying to get the “speck” out of other’s eyes? I think it’s a call for perspective. For honesty with ourselves and a realization of our own sinfulness.

 

Just because I have baggage I am working through; just because I have issues that need forgiving and healing doesn’t mean I am disqualified from helping others. It doesn’t mean I can’t see and then call out sin in my friend if it’s needed. But I have to be working on me too. I have to be seeking removal of my own junk. And, as is illustrated in the analogy Jesus uses, my own junk hinders me from helping others as best as I can. So if I would be willing to get the plank out of my own eye I could actually help my friend more effectively. It’s a call to honesty with ones self. To being willing to look inward before looking outward.

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 1 John1:8-9

 

The issue of judging others versus holding them accountable, the difference between condemning and helping may hang to a certain degree on our willingness to look inwardly with honesty. When I see my own sin, when I have slogged through my own muck, and when I have been working on picking up the pieces of my own brokenness I am far more able to act with mercy to another who has fallen. Far more able to help them heal and far less likely to simply judge them.

The need for us to search within and to open ourselves up to the Spirit’s searching is crucial. It’s vital to our own spiritual health and relationship with the Father. And it’s vital to our ability to help others and lovingly bring them back when they stray. Otherwise, I fear we are far too prone to judgment and dismissal of others instead of love and grace. 

Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.      Psalm 139:23-24

cursed

 

 

I often think that the worst of the curse,

has nothing to do with these clothes or child birth;

the bruising of heels or the tilling of earth;

but the fact that the fruit didn’t keep to it’s word.

 

                                                -Levi Weaver, Good From Evil

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Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’ ”            Genesis 3:1-3

It promises but can never deliver. It whispers sweet sounds that will leave us wanting. It denies the truth to proclaim lies. It is the Forbidden.

It is the one thing—the only thing—God tells Adam and Eve they may not have. And it becomes the one thing—the only thing—they want. They trade all for nothing. They give eternity for a moment. A moment that is ultimately disappointing. And they leave us cursed. They leave us wanting. They leave us broken.

Forbidden. Cursed. These are the words of a people who have set their eyes on a must not, rather than the freedom of the ALL they may have. A people who listen to the other rather than the Creator. A people who see, want, and take.

We are these people. We are the cursed. We long for the forbidden. We lose sight of the ALL we are given.

And so we are pulled away; ripped from relationship. The very thing we were created for, intended to be consumed by, we are removed from. By our own hand. By our own selfishness.

But the Lord God called to the man, “Where are you?”      Genesis 3:9

 

And yet God comes looking. God comes pursuing. God comes for us. He knows our curse. He knows the stain of the forbidden on our lips. He knows the nakedness we hide and the lust we have uncovered. He knows us. And he comes looking.

 

And God sacrifices the life innocent to cover the nakedness of the broken image bearers. He sacrifices for the cursed. There is bloodshed in the perfect place; perfect no more.

It is a forth-telling of the future. A declaration of what is to come. God knew in that moment that more cursed would come, indeed that all coming would be cursed. And God knew that he would offer to cover all these cursed. That he would come looking, come asking, “Where are you?”

God knew that a Christ would be coming. A Christ for the cursed. The Christ for us.

Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us…          Galatians 3:13

 

Indeed it is by grace that we have been saved. And this could never be from us, because we were cursed when we were found. The Life Innocent was sacrificed, not just to cover, but to remove our curse.

Thanks be to God

an important confession

Woe to you Pharisees, because you love the most important seats in the synagogues and respectful greetings in the marketplaces.       Luke 11:43

 

Father, I confess that sometimes I let others define my value and determine my worth. I focus on being whatever those around me deem important instead of who you have called me to be.

I confess that some days I want to be recognized, to be admired, to be thought of as important; and it comes at the expense of simply wanting to be in relationship.

I confess that I love positions, seats, titles, accolades, and awards more than I love people.

 

When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.          Luke 14:8-11

 

Father, I confess that I look out for myself far more than I look out for others. I am self-promoting and seek to give myself the best.

I confess that I often settle for others perceiving that I am important rather than the reality of knowing I am valuable to you.

I confess that I do not like to humble myself.

 

How can you believe if you accept praise from one another, yet make no effort to obtain the praise that comes from the only God?  John 5:44

 

Father, forgive me. I like the praise and admiration of others too much. These distract me seeking you and your approval. They rob me of the Life abundant you have offered. They lie to me and convince me that my worth and my value are determined by those I am on the journey with, rather than the One we journey towards.

Father, I confess, that being important has become far too important and being humble and a servant far too rare. I confess. Please change my heart, my value system, my self-perception.

repent

“Suppose someone says to God,
‘I am guilty but will offend no more.

Teach me what I cannot see;
if I have done wrong, I will not do so again.’

Should God then reward you on your terms,
when you refuse to repent?
You must decide, not I;
so tell me what you know.   Job 34:31-33

 

“I promise I won’t do it again.” That’s the right way to approach God in repentance, isn’t it?

“Just teach me and I’ll do better.” That should be enough…right?

In Job 34 we find Job’s youngest friend Elihu speaking and he is frustrated with Job and with the other friends. Elihu has listened respectfully while Job spoke and waited while the other friends who were older spoke and gave advice. The assumption of the friends seems to be that Job needs to simply repent. Job seems to be confronting God, challenging him to make things right and stating that he hasn’t done anything wrong.

Elihu’s issue is with the concept of repentance. Job’s friends just seem to think if Job would acknowledge that he was wrong then God would make it all better. Their attitude—at least by Elihu’s perception—is one of “I promise not to do it anymore” and then wait for God to fix it. Elihu sees this as repenting on our own terms.

I have been thinking over this and reading it this morning, trying to wrap my head around what I think of what he’s saying here. And I think I’m getting somewhere, although I don’t know that I like where it’s leading me.

How often do we approach God in repentance and we have a nice “plan” in place for how things can go? Because God is merciful I wonder how often we take his grace for granted and so approach with hearts that are a bit flippant? Have we become too casual in our perception of our own sin?

Elihu seems to be saying in verses 31 and 32 that our repentance to God should stop with the words, “I am guilty” or “I have done wrong” and nothing more; that when we add things like “teach me how to not do it anymore” we are making the terms of our reconciliation. “Why should we expect God to reward us for setting the terms?” Elihu queries.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We live under grace, and Christ died already for all our sins. Once for all. So it isn’t like we have the exact same concerns that Elihu would have had. We have forgiveness already. But sin hurts our relationship with God. And I wonder if Elihu isn’t on to something with regard to how we approach God when we have wronged him.

When was the last time that our repentance contained an appropriate level of mourning or lamenting? Sometimes I wonder if the ease of our free forgiveness has created some complacency in us with regard to our sin.

In the gospels we find John the Baptist being described as preaching a baptism of repentance. That’s a repentance that involves dying to self. That’s a very different repentance than simply approaching God with, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

I’m not sure I’m drawing any conclusions yet, just considering these words and thinking. We don’t live under the Law so I won’t fear God will withhold his forgiveness. It’s already done. I’m already forgiven. But I’m just wondering if my repentance is given on my own terms. Do I adequately appreciate and so lament what my sin does to our relationship? Or do I simply say, “Sorry. I promise not to do it again.” That does seem woefully inadequate.

scandalous love

So here it is, right in the middle of an already awkward moment that makes most Christians feel extremely uncomfortable: a scene about forgiveness that tends to feel a little scandalous.

 The scene is one of a woman lavishly showing her affection for Jesus:

• First of all she’s crying. That alone is enough to make some uncomfortable. A person openly weeping in public, at a party no less, is awkward.
• But then, you add on top that what she’s doing with her tears. She using them to wash Jesus’ feet! Weird. 
• And then she’s using her hair to dry his feet. Even weirder.
• And lastly she’s using very expensive perfume–outrageously expensive–to anoint his feet…

 

Yeah, most of us would probably rather skip past this story. I mean, it’s a very uncomfortable scene if you think about it. Can you imagine sitting at the table, trying to talk to someone and there is a woman on the floor massaging his feet with oil, her tears and her hair?

Awkward doesn’t really begin to cover it!

The passage I’m referring to, by the way, is found in Luke 7:36-50. And while all this is going on Jesus makes a statement about forgiveness that I’m guessing no one saw coming.

 

Did I mention that the woman in question has a reputation? It’s not a good one either. 

But look at what Jesus says about her in Luke 7:46-48:

 

You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.” Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” 

 

“…her many sins have been forgiven–for she loved much.”

 

But doesn’t she need to ask appropriately first? Shouldn’t she list all her sins and seek forgiveness with an appropriately contrite heart?

That’s how it works right? Apparently not.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t ask for forgiveness. The Bible teaches us that we should. And I’m not saying there isn’t a great deal of value for us in listing our wrong doings as we seek God’s forgiveness for them. There is. But I’m seeing here that Jesus is trying to re-focus our attention on what’s really going on, or what should be really going on.

He’s pointing out that forgiveness is driven by love, not words. God doesn’t forgive us because our words match the pre-determined criteria. It isn’t about “saying it right,” but more about feeling it right. He’s showing us that true forgiveness is a result of a deeply intimate encounter with him. Forgiveness is scandalous and passionate and it comes crashing in regardless of who is watching and with no regard for what is proper.

Forgiveness isn’t given because we say it right or act a certain way. Once again, what we have with Jesus is all about relationship. Relationships are about what’s genuine, what’s real. They aren’t impressed by form and regulation, but by honesty and love.

When I seek forgiveness from God, am I trying to “do it right” or am I trying to be real, responding out of my love and without regard for others and their perceptions?

 

Am I willing to break a few jars,  sacrifice some costly “things”, in my pursuit of meaningful and intimate relationship?

 

What about when I forgive others? Does it come only when they “do it right” meeting my pre-determined requirements?