This week I sat down with my good friend, Jennifer Gorman to talk about what it means to love well. She is an avid volunteer and serves some of the most needy in her profession. One of the things that really hit home for me was that Jennifer made the point that to love well we need to live transparent lives. I hope that you find this conversation as fun as I did!
Jennifer and Jeffrey just launched a business with Tastefully Simple, I'd encourage you to check out their store.
The men in charge of Jesus began poking fun at him, slapping him around. They put a blindfold on him and taunted, "Who hit you that time?" They were having a grand time with him.
When it was morning, the religious leaders of the people and the high priests and scholars all got together and brought him before their High Council. They said, "Are you the Messiah?"
He answered, "If I said yes, you wouldn't believe me. If I asked what you meant by your question, you wouldn't answer me. So here's what I have to say: From here on the Son of Man takes his place at God's right hand, the place of power."
They all said, "So you admit your claim to be the Son of God?"
"You're the ones who keep saying it," he said.
But they had made up their minds, "Why do we need any more evidence? We've all heard him as good as say it himself."
When I read the narratives of the scriptures one of the questions that I ask myself is, “Where do I find myself in the story?”
The easy thing is to always try and identify with Jesus. So, what I intentionally have done is to say that’s off limits. He is the unique God-man and so identifying with him in the story is not plausible. My next default is to identify with the disciples and sometimes that’s true. What I have to often make the hard decision to do is to place myself as one of those in opposition to Jesus in the story.
So, for instance, in the story of the Good Samaritan I desperately want to identify with the Samaritan. When in reality, I am more like the priest or the Levite. Perhaps it’s the story of the prodigal son. Don’t we all see ourselves as the prodigal? But, in reality, I am much more like the older brother. When Jesus interacts with the religious elite of his day I have to make the conscious decision to remember that is literally who I am today. I am among the religious elite. That sounds weird to say. But, I am a full-time churchman. I make a living from serving as a pastor to a community of people and I have advanced training and education in religion.
More and more I am forcing myself to see myself in the story as who I really am.
That is hard.
Particularly when I read this story.
I don’t see myself as the guards who mock and beat Jesus. I am not a representative of the state or a wielder of the sword. But, I am far worse. I would find myself among the religious leaders. Those whose sin here is that of not wanting to lose power.
You see, if Jesus is the Son of God, then he was the authority and not them. The people would no longer need to follow their lead or obey them. If Jesus had that kind of authority then the religious leaders would lose their stature and their authority.
Let me let you in on a secret. Religious leaders of any day and age don’t like losing authority or power.
This is why so many isolate and surround themselves with “yes” people. Far too many are fragile and weak.
By placing myself in the role of religious leader here, I am able to glimpse my shadow self. It provides me a check for the ways that I try to hold on to authority and power. It also opens my eyes to see why I need to be around people who are not going to simply tell me what I want to hear.
I am so grateful that what I have in my life are people who care enough about me to pursue me in authentic relationship. This means that we disagree about things. It means that we work through those disagreements. It means that all of us are able to be real. The best part is that when I move towards my shadow self they are there to shine light on it and help draw me back.
My prayer for you is that you will be surrounded by a community that helps you live authentically and helps you grow and change. A community that shows you your shadows and walks you back into the light.
Arresting Jesus, they marched him off and took him into the house of the Chief Priest. Peter followed, but at a safe distance. In the middle of the courtyard some people had started a fire and were sitting around it, trying to keep warm. One of the serving maids sitting at the fire noticed him, then took a second look and said, "This man was with him!"
He denied it, "Woman, I don't even know him."
A short time later, someone else noticed him and said, "You're one of them."
But Peter denied it: "Man, I am not."
About an hour later, someone else spoke up, really adamant: "He's got to have been with him! He's got 'Galilean' written all over him."
Peter said, "Man, I don't know what you're talking about." At that very moment, the last word hardly off his lips, a rooster crowed. Just then, the Master turned and looked at Peter. Peter remembered what the Master had said to him: "Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times." He went out and cried and cried and cried.
This is one of the most heart wrenching stories we have the in the Scriptures. The worst part is when you realize that Peter’s denials come within earshot of Jesus. It’s not like Jesus was somewhere that he couldn’t see or hear what was happening. Nope, he was right there, probably being held in the courtyard so that folks could mock him. Peter tried to be brave, but he broke. He wilted in the face of standing with Jesus.
And Jesus turned and looked at Peter.
There it is. That’s the sentence. He turned and looked at Peter.
One little word, at. It makes the whole thing so personal and damning and heartbreaking.
As I process this story this morning I am struck by the absolutely personal and specific nature of the interaction.
Jesus turned and looked at Peter.
I think the reality is for those of us who are trying to pursue God we must realize that it’s personal as well as communal. Yes, Christ saved a people. But Christ also is about our personal transformation. The intimacy of this moment with Peter is the great reminder that our spirituality is intimate and it is personal.
Do you notice the gentleness of this too? Jesus doesn’t call him out. He doesn’t belittle him. He doesn’t “put him on blast” (as the kids say). Jesus turns and looks at him. That’s all it took. The holy one looking at him made him realize what had happened.
We must also not miss the inherent detail in all this either. Peter was looking at Jesus too. If he wasn’t then he would not have noticed the fact that Jesus was looking athim.
You see the intimacy of our faith must go both ways. It is when we are most intimately looking at Christ that we will see how he looks at us. There is something in the look that is filled with grace, mercy, love, and truth. As we look at Christ and Christ looks at us, we begin to see ourselves for who we really are.
It is in this moment that we may feel some conviction. We may experience the heartbreak of Peter. But, as we learn later in the story, he doesn’t hide from his faith family. Christ, after the resurrection, finds him in community.
This is the difference between Judas and Peter. Judas kills himself. He hid away, he isolated. Peter weeps but moves into relationship to find life.
I have to wonder if the difference between Peter and Judas was that Peter was looking at Jesus. His eyes were on the Christ. Perhaps Judas was simply looking at himself?
How am I living? I am looking at Christ or am I looking at myself? Where are my spiritual eyes fixed?
This song written by Derek Webb hits this morning, Faith My Eyes, the chorus goes like this:
So keep'em coming these lines on the road And keep me responsible be it a light or heavy load And keep me guessing with these blessings in disguise And I'll walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes
That’s what I’m praying this morning. What about you?
Leaving there, he went, as he so often did, to Mount Olives. The disciples followed him. When they arrived at the place, he said, "Pray that you don't give in to temptation."
He pulled away from them about a stone's throw, knelt down, and prayed, "Father, remove this cup from me. But please, not what I want. What do you want?" At once an angel from heaven was at his side, strengthening him. He prayed on all the harder. Sweat, wrung from him like drops of blood, poured off his face.
He got up from prayer, went back to the disciples and found them asleep, drugged by grief. He said, "What business do you have sleeping? Get up. Pray so you won't give in to temptation."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a crowd showed up, Judas, the one from the Twelve, in the lead. He came right up to Jesus to kiss him. Jesus said, "Judas, you would betray the Son of Man with a kiss?"
When those with him saw what was happening, they said, "Master, shall we fight?" One of them took a swing at the Chief Priest's servant and cut off his right ear.
Jesus said, "Let them be. Even in this." Then, touching the servant's ear, he healed him.
Jesus spoke to those who had come—high priests, Temple police, religion leaders: "What is this, jumping me with swords and clubs as if I were a dangerous criminal? Day after day I've been with you in the Temple and you've not so much as lifted a hand against me. But do it your way—it's a dark night, a dark hour."
We come to the end of another week and hopefully you are doing well. I know for me it’s been great, one of the best weeks in a long time.
This morning’s reading is technically for tomorrow (but since I don’t write on Saturdays I thought it would be ok to jump ahead!) because I wrote about today’s passage earlier this week on accident. Ha!
Here we are in the Garden, the moment of Jesus’ betrayal and arrest. It’s a moment that always breaks my heart. Every time I read it. The grief of the moment and Jesus being betrayed with a kiss from one of his closest friends, it’s gut wrenching.
What strikes me about this story this morning is Jesus’ humanity.
I think that we often think of him only as the God-man. Too often we miss his humanity. We miss his weakness and his broken-heartedness.
Here we find him praying and begging that the cup be taken from him. He knew and understood what was about to happen. You can hear and feel the pain and sorrow in his words. But, there is also something else, a decision and willingness to trust God in the moment. It wasn’t a blind trust by any stretch of the imagination. It was an eyes wide open, I know what’s coming, this is going to be awful, decision.
I find it beautiful that there was a moment where Jesus said, “Any other way?”
The struggle that he walked through in this moment wasn’t sin. It wasn’t wrong. It was holy and good. The struggle of faith includes weeping and frustration. It includes the hard stuff. Struggling to follow God is not always easy and it’s OK to say so. If the God-man can wilt and cry out for mercy, so can I. I, you, we don’t have to have some false bravado all the time. We don’t have to be strong every minute of every day. There are times when we are going to feel weak and sad and heartbroken and struggling.
Jesus life of faith included that too.
So, on this dreary rainy Friday, remember it’s OK to enter into the sorrow of life. People will fail you. Your friends might betray you. Life will be hard. To enter into it and feel it with all of who you are is good and righteous.
Grieve. Rage. Weep. Cry out.
I wrote yesterday about how sometimes the Psalms feel whiny for me. But, I think that is rooted is my own dislike of feeling my emotions. The Psalms show us that God wants us to have all the feelings and to express all the emotions. God is good with us being brutally honest with all of it.
I’m going to wrap this up with the opening lines from Psalm 102, it’s heart wrenching, and it’s Scripture and it’s holy.
GOD, listen! Listen to my prayer, listen to the pain in my cries. Don't turn your back on me just when I need you so desperately. Pay attention! This is a cry for help! And hurry—this can't wait!
I want to learn to engage my emotions and not just stuff them.
In the season premiere of #LoveWell I interviewed Robert Norris. He's a volunteer extraordinaire and all around great husband, dad, and friend. There are few people who are more loving and caring than Rob. We talk quite a bit about what it means to be intentional and the joy of hospitality.
Be sure to check out Rob's required listening to help you put on your love goggles, Beyonce's "I am...World Tour", over on Spotify.
Thank GOD! Pray to him by name! Tell everyone you meet what he has done! Sing him songs, belt out hymns, translate his wonders into music! Honor his holy name with Hallelujahs, you who seek GOD. Live a happy life! Keep your eyes open for GOD, watch for his works; be alert for signs of his presence. Remember the world of wonders he has made, his miracles, and the verdicts he's rendered— O seed of Abraham, his servant, O child of Jacob, his chosen.
I have a confession to make. I totally misread the Book of Common Prayer earlier this week and got myself tangled up and out of order in Luke. So, instead of rehashing a passage from earlier this week, I thought I would take a bit of the psalm from today’s readings.
Reading the psalms for me can be tedious. So many feel too emo and whiny for me. But, then you get ones like Psalm 105 which tells the narrative of the people of God. This psalm is like an epic poem in its retelling of the Exodus. It is, on its own merits, a beautiful piece of poetry.
What really hit me this morning were these first six verses though and verse four in particular. It reads, “Keep your eyes open for GOD, watch for his works; be alert for signs of his presence.”
Over the last year I have begun learning to practice being in the moment. The realization that all we ever truly experience is the “now” was a bit of a perspective shattering thing for me. I have always been a bit like Luke Skywalker in the swamps of Dagobah with my mind elsewhere. I constantly think of the future and what is next. I really struggle to be present in the moment. Even as I sit here writing this morning my mind wanders to later today, next week, next month, and I have to bring myself back to this moment. It’s not a bad thing to be oriented this way, but there is a danger in it.
The danger of always dreaming and thinking about the future is that I miss what’s right here. I miss the joy and beauty of the moment, the now.
I think back over my life and wish I had savored certain seasons more deeply. Yet, I was always moving and thinking about the next thing.
Just before the pandemic struck I was spinning up and getting excited about the future. There was momentum in all of our missional communities. Things were happening and it was exciting! All of my dreams were beginning to come true. But, then everything stopped. The world shut down. I was crushed.
Somehow, I had to learn to find joy.
In an ancient letter to a group of Christians in the city of Philippi, Paul of Tarsus wrote, “I've learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty.”
I am trying to learn this. It’s brutally difficult. God graciously continues to provide opportunities. But, I don’t like it. I don’t like learning contentment or living in the eternal “now.” Why? Because when you do you begin to feel things. I am finding that I am more aware of my emotions and my body. It’s strange to say and that sounds really “woo-woo” to me. But, it’s not. It’s this growing awareness of what it means to bring all of myself to this immediate moment.
Just now, after becoming aware of and confessing my wandering mind I have written more in just a few minutes than I had the twenty minutes before. It’s a very strange experience.
Practically, I am trying to live out in the body what the psalmist writes here in verse four. I am intentionally trying to be alert for God’s presence. To do this demands that I am embrace the “now” as eternity. In so doing, I am learning to be content and satisfied with what is happening in the moment. It is both beautiful and ugly. It brings me joy and sorrow. But, the contentedness that I am experiencing is something I have never truly known.
Another word for it might be, “rest.”
How about you? Are you experiencing contentment? Are you embracing the eternal “now”?
When it was time, he sat down, all the apostles with him, and said, "You've no idea how much I have looked forward to eating this Passover meal with you before I enter my time of suffering. It's the last one I'll eat until we all eat it together in the kingdom of God."
Taking the cup, he blessed it, then said, "Take this and pass it among you. As for me, I'll not drink wine again until the kingdom of God arrives."
Taking bread, he blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body, given for you. Eat it in my memory."
He did the same with the cup after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant written in my blood, blood poured out for you.
"Do you realize that the hand of the one who is betraying me is at this moment on this table? It's true that the Son of Man is going down a path already marked out—no surprises there. But for the one who turns him in, turns traitor to the Son of Man, this is doomsday."
They immediately became suspicious of each other and began quizzing one another, wondering who might be about to do this.
Welcome to the ugly beauty of living in community.
I have read this passage hundreds, if not thousands of times over my life. It has never clicked with me the immediacy of the beauty being interrupted with the ugly. It’s not that I’ve not known it was there, it’s just that it never hit me that there was this immediacy to it.
Jesus just instituted what would become known as the eucharist or communion. The meal that Christians would eat regularly to symbolize our union with Christ and with one another. It is beautiful. Every time I celebrate communion with my community of faith I am moved by its simple beauty and the depth and weight of it.
But this morning I see it so clearly, there it is right alongside this beautiful moment, suspicion and arguing.
Community, even the ones that we hold most dear and ideal are imperfect. There is a sickness that runs through them and each of us. We all need healing, individually and corporately.
The beauty for me of the meal, of the eucharist, of communion is that it provides for us this weekly opportunity to declare that we will not let the spiritual sickness that resides in us win. It provides opportunity to deal with the issues. When we take time to reflect and wrestle with out readiness to receive the meal there is a chance to extend forgiveness and seek it.
What is most amazing about this story to me is not the moment in and of itself. It’s the fact that after this we have the continuing story that we call The Acts of the Apostles. This moment didn’t destroy them, they worked through it. They came out the other side to launch a global movement. As we read through Acts we find that the ugly of being in community together is never far away. The early church struggled with one another. They argued and had disagreements. There were tensions but they dealt with them and worked through them together.
What happens today is that we walk away from one church building to one down the street and never deal with the issues. There is little by way of entering in and redeeming the ugly. We just walk away.
Could you imagine if at that point in the story the disciples just walked away?
Could you imagine if they decided that they just couldn’t deal with “that person” and they were out?
I am so grateful they fought for redemption and relationship and the beauty of community.
"Who would you rather be: the one who eats the dinner or the one who serves the dinner? You'd rather eat and be served, right? But I've taken my place among you as the one who serves. And you've stuck with me through thick and thin. Now I confer on you the royal authority my Father conferred on me so you can eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and be strengthened as you take up responsibilities among the congregations of God's people.
"Simon, stay on your toes. Satan has tried his best to separate all of you from me, like chaff from wheat. Simon, I've prayed for you in particular that you not give in or give out. When you have come through the time of testing, turn to your companions and give them a fresh start."
Peter said, "Master, I'm ready for anything with you. I'd go to jail for you. I'd die for you!"
Jesus said, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Peter, but before the rooster crows you will have three times denied that you know me."
Then Jesus said, "When I sent you out and told you to travel light, to take only the bare necessities, did you get along all right?"
"Certainly," they said, "we got along just fine."
He said, "This is different. Get ready for trouble. Look to what you'll need; there are difficult times ahead. Pawn your coat and get a sword. What was written in Scripture, 'He was lumped in with the criminals,' gets its final meaning in me. Everything written about me is now coming to a conclusion."
They said, "Look, Master, two swords!"
But he said, "Enough of that; no more sword talk!"
Here we are in the upper room on the night of Jesus’ arrest. We could spend some time talking about the swords and how that relates to Jesus’ pretty clear position on non-violence. But, I think that’s better left to a chat over coffee, beers, or whiskey. So, if you want to discuss that let’s set up a time. So, if we’re not talking about swords, what are we going to talk about. How about the whole authority rooted in service thing?
Yeah.
This is one of those deals that goes against much of what we think about when it comes to leadership. Jesus does here what he often does and flips the expectations upside down.
Over the years I have read many books on leadership. I have sat through tons of leadership seminars and trainings. One of the things that I find interesting is that the direct connection between authority and service is one that is rarely made. Serving is usually a utilitarian concept. You serve others so that you can influence them to get them to follow you. This is the way that serving is used in leadership circles. I mean nobody puts it that crassly but if we’re honest that’s the underlying message.
Jesus here is talking about authority and sacrificial service. It’s a fascinating interaction to me because of how counter-cultural it is for our leadership climate. He has given the apostles authority so that they can eat at his table so that they can serve.
I’m not sure I have ever put it together that way. The authority isn’t given to them so they can have people follow them. No, it’s given to them so they can be strengthened to serve. How does that even work? Why do they need authority to eat at the table? How does this whole thing work?
I have way more questions than answers at this point in the game. Truly, this is a fresh insight for me. It’s not like I didn’t think that serving was mission critical for the leader, but the connection between authority to be strengthened to serve is new. I need to wrap my head around how that plays itself out.
What changes do I need to make as a leader? As a servant? It makes me think that the authority scorecard needs to change from being that of do people do what you want them to do to that of “do I have strength to serve?”
Ok, I need to process all this more. Perhaps you do too. I’d love to hear your thoughts. So leave a comment and let me know you what you think…
One day people were standing around talking about the Temple, remarking how beautiful it was, the splendor of its stonework and memorial gifts. Jesus said, "All this you're admiring so much—the time is coming when every stone in that building will end up in a heap of rubble."
They asked him, "Teacher, when is this going to happen? What clue will we get that it's about to take place?"
He said, "Watch out for the doomsday deceivers. Many leaders are going to show up with forged identities claiming, 'I'm the One,' or, 'The end is near.' Don't fall for any of that. When you hear of wars and uprisings, keep your head and don't panic. This is routine history and no sign of the end."
He went on, "Nation will fight nation and ruler fight ruler, over and over. Huge earthquakes will occur in various places. There will be famines. You'll think at times that the very sky is falling.
"But before any of this happens, they'll arrest you, hunt you down, and drag you to court and jail. It will go from bad to worse, dog-eat-dog, everyone at your throat because you carry my name. You'll end up on the witness stand, called to testify. Make up your mind right now not to worry about it. I'll give you the words and wisdom that will reduce all your accusers to stammers and stutters.
"You'll even be turned in by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends. Some of you will be killed. There's no telling who will hate you because of me. Even so, every detail of your body and soul—even the hairs of your head!—is in my care; nothing of you will be lost. Staying with it—that's what is required. Stay with it to the end. You won't be sorry; you'll be saved.
We could do a deep dive on the stuff in this passage because it’s one of the harder passages in Luke about the “end times.” To be sure, I think this passage has been used and abused in ways that don’t fit what’s happening here. But, that’s not what these little daily devotionals are for. If you want to talk about the end times or second coming stuff, hit me up and let’s set up a time to chat.
Did you catch what Jesus says at the end of this passage? “Even so, every detail of your body and soul—even the hairs of your head!—is in my care; nothing of you will be lost. Staying with it—that's what is required. Stay with it to the end. You won't be sorry; you'll be saved.”
I wonder, do I believe this? Do I believe that Jesus cares about me so deeply that “nothing of [me] will be lost”?
Isn’t it interesting the ordering of that last bit. First, he reiterates his care. Notice, it’s not necessarily his disciples that he’s speaking to here. He’s talking with “people.” Luke consistently makes it clear when Jesus is focusing his teaching on those in his inner circle and those outside the circle. Here, in this moment, this comment is directed to the masses. At the very least, this should wake us up to the reality that Jesus’ care extends beyond the “church” to the world. This is some pretty powerful stuff. Many of us under estimate the love of Christ. Here, he makes it clear the depth and scope of his love.
In light of his care he says “stay with it!” It is because we can be secure in his love and care for us that we can persevere through persecution, pain, and suffering. Hold on, not because you have to, hold on because he loves and cares for us. This is a bit of a flip in the way that we usually think or act. Typically we view relationships the other way around. Is this person faithful and loyal? Then I will love and care for them. Jesus loves and cares first and because of the love and care we are able to hold on.
Do I really believe this? I desperately want to. I want to believe that Jesus cares about all of who I am. Did you catch the totality of his care? Body, soul, right down to the hairs on your head. I really want to believe this. Much of the time, I think I do or at least try to.
The next question I wrestle with is, “If this is how Jesus loves, and I want to be like Jesus, do I love this way?” Am I willing to love and care first without the promise of reciprocation? Am I willing to risk for the sake of living like Christ? Can I put aside the questions of whether or not someone is worthy of my love and care?
The second batch of questions is harder to answer. We really like it when someone loves and cares for us without strings. But, it is a lot harder to love others like that.
How about you? Where are you in this process of growing in love? Do you recognize the love of Christ for you? Are you living the love of Christ similarly?
Then he put a question to them: "How is it that they say that the Messiah is David's son? In the Book of Psalms, David clearly says,
God said to my Master, "Sit here at my right hand until I put your enemies under your feet."
"David here designates the Messiah as 'my Master'—so how can the Messiah also be his 'son'?"
With everybody listening, Jesus spoke to his disciples. "Watch out for the religion scholars. They love to walk around in academic gowns, preen in the radiance of public flattery, bask in prominent positions, sit at the head table at every church function. And all the time they are exploiting the weak and helpless. The longer their prayers, the worse they get. But they'll pay for it in the end."
Just then he looked up and saw the rich people dropping offerings in the collection plate. Then he saw a poor widow put in two pennies. He said, "The plain truth is that this widow has given by far the largest offering today. All these others made offerings that they'll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn't afford—she gave her all!"
Once again Jesus goes in on the religious scholars and lifts up the humble. Luke reminds us that the way that Jesus understands the world is upside down from the way that we do. He just sees things differently.
There’s an artist named David Hayward who creates cartoons that are subversive and challenging for mainstream Christian evangelicalism. In one of my favorites there is a pastor at the podium declaring, “Let’s give glory to God!” But, everything else about the church gathering is giving glory to the pastor.
It turns out that we are no different than the religious folks in Jesus’ day.
The pastor when they are doing well get lost. They become nothing more than a mirror to reflect the glory of Christ to the people.
When you look in a mirror you don’t think, “Wow! That’s a great mirror!” No, you see your reflection. The mirror “disappears.”
The religious elite in our day and age make a bit too much news. We are a bit too concerned about our own notoriety and influence. So much so that we miss when we are really doing the work.
Recently, I was talking with a good friend about some of my struggles with wanting to have more “influence.” In other words, I wanted to have more people read, share, watch, and engage with the content that I create. He reminded me that what matters are the conversations and the communities that I have been able to help foster. I had lost the plot a bit in my own desire to sit at the head of the table, so to speak.
As I continue to process this passage, I am thinking that we need to shift our gaze from thinking of religious elites as heroes of the faith to the widows who give their all. These women and men who have little to offer by the way of the world but give everything they have to love well. These are the heroes of the faith. These are the people who show us what godly contentment looks like. These are the people who patiently and faithfully trust God for all they need.
May we all learn the quiet, simple, sacrificial faithfulness of the widow.
Some Sadducees came up. This is the Jewish party that denies any possibility of resurrection. They asked, "Teacher, Moses wrote us that if a man dies and leaves a wife but no child, his brother is obligated to take the widow to wife and get her with child. Well, there once were seven brothers. The first took a wife. He died childless. The second married her and died, then the third, and eventually all seven had their turn, but no child. After all that, the wife died. That wife, now—in the resurrection whose wife is she? All seven married her."
Jesus said, "Marriage is a major preoccupation here, but not there. Those who are included in the resurrection of the dead will no longer be concerned with marriage nor, of course, with death. They will have better things to think about, if you can believe it. All ecstasies and intimacies then will be with God. Even Moses exclaimed about resurrection at the burning bush, saying, 'God: God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob!' God isn't the God of dead men, but of the living. To him all are alive."
Some of the religion scholars said, "Teacher, that's a great answer!" For a while, anyway, no one dared put questions to him.
Once again, I’m struck by Jesus’ ability to handle difficult questions and interactions. The Sadducees who, don’t believe in resurrection, ask a question about the resurrection. I probably would have said something like, “You guys don’t believe any of this, why are you asking about it?” But not Jesus. He gives them an answer that shifts their perspective.
I think that’s what strikes me as as much as anything in this passage is the perspective shift that Jesus pulls on the Sadducees. Honestly, it makes me wonder where my perspective is most of the time. The Sadducees were wanting to debate the finer points of religion, they sort of wanted to argue about how many angels fit on the head of a pin. Jesus was not going to bite. It’s not about the details, the minutia, the “what-ifs.” He pointed them to the deeper, the truer, the more beautiful perspective of life.
You see, resurrection for Jesus is about life. He quotes Moses at the burning bush (side note: this was because the Sadducees only held that the first five books of the Bible were authoritative) to show that God’s perspective is that the patriarchs were living. In effect Jesus is saying, “Don’t get caught up in all these ‘what-ifs’ of religious dogma. Ask yourselves if you’re living.”
So many of us get caught up in the “what-ifs” and miss out on living. I think if we grasped the depths and ramifications of resurrection that we would be more free to go and live. It is as if we think God is more worried about our right thinking than he is with our right living. Sure, we should learn and try to believe rightly, but if that doesn’t translate into right living then the belief is meaningless.
I love reading and thinking. I meet God in those ways. But, if I’m really honest with myself it’s the times that I have been outside of my office and away from a desk living life with my community that I have experienced the love of God in true intimacy.
Does your perspective need to shift? I know mine often does.
As the great theologian, Andy Dufresne said, “It comes down to a simple choice. Get busy living or get busy dying.”
I don’t know about you, but I want to live that resurrection life. It’s time to get busy living.
Watching for a chance to get him, they sent spies who posed as honest inquirers, hoping to trick him into saying something that would get him in trouble with the law. So they asked him, "Teacher, we know that you're honest and straightforward when you teach, that you don't pander to anyone but teach the way of God accurately. Tell us: Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?"
He knew they were laying for him and said, "Show me a coin. Now, this engraving, who does it look like and what does it say?"
"Caesar," they said.
Jesus said, "Then give Caesar what is his and give God what is his."
Try as they might, they couldn't trap him into saying anything incriminating. His answer caught them off guard and left them speechless.
Last Wednesday night during Putting the New Testament In Its Place I did a whole historical breakdown of this passage. I want to encourage you to join me for that time. I host a Zoom classroom for discussion and we also live stream the class at 7 pm on Wednesday nights on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and Twitch.
As I process this passage this morning, the thing that struck me is the way the religious leaders approached Jesus. They effusively praise him and tell him how great he is. This was a pretty significant change in tact from many of their earlier interactions with him. I mean, in verse 19, we learned that they were so angry they wanted to kill him on the spot.
Jesus spoke to his disciples about being crafty and wise to the way of the world. Here, we see Jesus live that out. He doesn’t get caught up in their praise of him. Jesus sees through their baloney. As a result he’s not taken by surprise at their attempt to trick him.
It seems to me that many of us in the American church need to be more aware of the intentions behind too much flattery. When we are flattered we are quick to trust and this leaves us in a place too often where we find ourselves with a subverted faith. All of a sudden we are yoked with people who have an anti-Christ agenda. Then our pride gets in the way and we find ourselves unwilling to say, “I was wrong about this.” As a result we double down and go deeper into the hole.
If we are going to maintain our holiness we will need to learn to be aware of too much flattery. The tickling of our ears, while it feels good for the moment, leaves us in a place where we are vulnerable to be taken advantage of and then we wake up and come to ourselves finding that we have left the narrow path well behind.
Jesus didn’t get used. Jesus didn’t get tricked. Jesus flipped the script and left them speechless.
I am hoping to be more like Jesus.
To do so means being present and more aware of what is happening around me. I need to listen and pay attention. Living like Jesus requires an intentional hearing of people in my life. It demands a mindfulness to the moment that I often don’t have. My mind is often somewhere in the future and rarely in the moment.
How about you? Do you get easily suckered by flattery only to find out you were being used?
Jesus told another story to the people: "A man planted a vineyard. He handed it over to farmhands and went off on a trip. He was gone a long time. In time he sent a servant back to the farmhands to collect the profits, but they beat him up and sent him off empty-handed. He decided to try again and sent another servant. That one they beat black and blue, and sent him off empty-handed. He tried a third time. They worked that servant over from head to foot and dumped him in the street.
"Then the owner of the vineyard said, 'I know what I'll do: I'll send my beloved son. They're bound to respect my son.'
"But when the farmhands saw him coming, they quickly put their heads together. 'This is our chance—this is the heir! Let's kill him and have it all to ourselves.' They killed him and threw him over the fence.
"What do you think the owner of the vineyard will do? Right. He'll come and clean house. Then he'll assign the care of the vineyard to others."
Those who were listening said, "Oh, no! He'd never do that!"
But Jesus didn't back down. "Why, then, do you think this was written:
That stone the masons threw out— It's now the cornerstone!?
"Anyone falling over that stone will break every bone in his body; if the stone falls on anyone, it will be a total smashup."
The religion scholars and high priests wanted to lynch him on the spot, but they were intimidated by public opinion. They knew the story was about them.
In this story Jesus does one thing: He exposes the religious hierarchy for what they were. They wanted power over and were willing to do whatever it took to maintain that power.
What really strikes me is their response. They got angry, angry enough to want to kill Jesus on the spot.
So, what is my response to being exposed? What is yours?
There will be times in our lives when we are going to be exposed by others or by the Spirit. Our lives will be laid bare and we will have to come face to face with our shadows. To be sure, we do everything we possibly can to avoid that. We put on masks and identities to hide our shadow selves and to remain acceptable. But, eventually everything is brought into the light and we will have to deal with the false self we have created.
In photography, exposure alludes to the amount of light that is collected by your camera. An underexposed picture is dark and grainy, conversely an overexposed picture is washed out. In both situations the true picture is obscured.
When we are underexposed we are living in darkness. Our self created shadow hides us from one another and God. It keeps us from growing or experiencing truth. We are unable to move into any sense of mature faith, life, or relationships.
If we get overexposed then we are likely being spiritually or emotionally abused. Our imperfections and sin-sickness are used against us to create shame. When we are living in this situation we find ourselves wounded and unable to move into any sense of mature faith, life, or relationships.
To be properly exposed is to be able to remove the shadow and become who God made us to be, the very best versions of ourselves. While it might hurt in the short term and even help us to identify areas for which we are guilty, this process frees us to mature in our faith, life, and relationships.
I think it’s fascinating to see how Jesus exposes the religious leaders. He doesn’t do it by shouting them down or wagging a finger. He does so with a story and through the side door. Their own consciences pricked them and they responded. Their response was not with a desire to change but with anger.
So, again, I am left wondering, how do I respond when I am exposed? Not in an overexposed kind of way but in this way where my conscience is allowed to work. If I’m honest with myself, the response is typically one of two things. First, I will often try to rationalize my shadow. I will argue for why this mask is important and needs to remain. Second, I will get angry. That kind of irrational anger that makes no sense and then you look back and think, “Well, that was dumb.”
When I’m doing well and practicing good healthy spiritual and physical disciplines, my response is different. I will listen. I will take it in. I will evaluate it. And often will make appropriate changes. I wish that was the case more than it actually it is. I think, these responses are coming more often. But, I want this to be more the norm than the exception.
How about you? What is your response when you are “exposed”?
When the city came into view, he wept over it. "If you had only recognized this day, and everything that was good for you! But now it's too late. In the days ahead your enemies are going to bring up their heavy artillery and surround you, pressing in from every side. They'll smash you and your babies on the pavement. Not one stone will be left intact. All this because you didn't recognize and welcome God's personal visit."
Going into the Temple he began to throw out everyone who had set up shop, selling everything and anything. He said, "It's written in Scripture,
My house is a house of prayer; You have turned it into a religious bazaar."
From then on he taught each day in the Temple. The high priests, religion scholars, and the leaders of the people were trying their best to find a way to get rid of him. But with the people hanging on every word he spoke, they couldn't come up with anything.
I knew that today’s passage would be the one about cleansing the Temple. I was all ready to go all in on all the stuff that I know about what was going on there. Truly, it was on my mind and I kind of couldn’t wait to write this morning about it.
But, then I read it fresh this morning.
Sometimes when I come to these well worn stories I have pre-determined in my mind what I’m going to write here and then the Spirit redirects my gaze.
The opening of this story grabbed my heart. Luke writes, “When the city came into view, he wept over it. "If you had only recognized this day, and everything that was good for you! But now it's too late.”
This morning I experienced some disappointment from missed expectations. These missed expectations were not about something important, life-changing, or even really all that meaningful. I could feel myself begin to spin out a little.
But, then I read this passage this morning.
It was a 2x4 to the soul.
I was about to let something small, insignificant, and of no real value rob me of “this day, and everything that was good for” me. The Spirit re-oriented immediately.
It’s funny, yesterday I wrote and there was nothing remotely application oriented about it. Today, I’m writing it’s all application.
Jesus wept over the city because they didn’t recognize the day of his visit. They could have experienced all the good. But they weren’t paying attention or they were paying attention to the wrong things. So much so that they didn’t notice all the beauty and the good in their midst.
How often do we miss things the same way? How many days have we “not recognized” and missed “all the good”?
For me, it’s way too often. Too often I get sideways about the insignificant and the petty. Whether it’s unkind people or frustrating situations, I fix my attention there instead of all the good in front of me.
I don’t recognize the day.
Well, today, I’m choosing to recognize the day. I want to see all the good. Whose with me?
After saying these things, Jesus headed straight up to Jerusalem. When he got near Bethphage and Bethany at the mountain called Olives, he sent off two of the disciples with instructions: "Go to the village across from you. As soon as you enter, you'll find a colt tethered, one that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it. If anyone says anything, asks, 'What are you doing?' say, 'His Master needs him.'"
The two left and found it just as he said. As they were untying the colt, its owners said, "What are you doing untying the colt?"
They said, "His Master needs him."
They brought the colt to Jesus. Then, throwing their coats on its back, they helped Jesus get on. As he rode, the people gave him a grand welcome, throwing their coats on the street.
Right at the crest, where Mount Olives begins its descent, the whole crowd of disciples burst into enthusiastic praise over all the mighty works they had witnessed:
Blessed is he who comes, the king in God's name! All's well in heaven! Glory in the high places!
Some Pharisees from the crowd told him, "Teacher, get your disciples under control!"
But he said, "If they kept quiet, the stones would do it for them, shouting praise."
On Wednesday nights I have been hosting a virtual gathering called, “Beyond Sunday School.” We have looked a the history of Israel’s monarchy and we are now doing some background stuff on the New Testament. Last night we talked about the New Testament as history. This particular passage is beautiful in its own right, but is even more beautiful when you know a bit of the history.
One of the things that we have been talking about is that engaging with the Bible is to engage with the stories of people and their interactions with the divine. So, as we study it, we want to try to wrap our minds around their stories and see how our story connects to theirs. This moment in the gospel of Luke provides us a great example to do just that.
As they approach the city Jesus sends a couple guys ahead to get a colt for him to ride on. But not just any colt, a colt that hasn’t been ridden. According to Numbers 19:2 and Deuteronomy 21:3, an unbroken beast of burden was considered sacred. So, this colt was fit for a king.
Notice Jesus doesn’t just jump on the colt. He is placed there. The NIV says it this way, “They brought it to Jesus, threw their cloaks on the colt and put Jesus on it.” This was a coronation and enthronement.
Now, we get to this moment where knowing a bit of history is invaluable. Luke tells us, “When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!’ ‘Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!’”
So, what’s the big deal?
Well back in 2 Samuel 15 we have the story of David fleeing from Absalom and we get this line in verse 30, “But David continued up the Mount of Olives, weeping as he went; his head was covered and he was barefoot. All the people with him covered their heads too and were weeping as they went up.”
Do you see what’s happening here?
Jesus, “the Son of David”, is reversing or redeeming what happened when David fled. He is enacting a mirror image of what happened. David went up the Mount of Olives weeping and Jesus comes downs the Mount of Olives rejoicing!
The king has returned!
None of this is lost on the Pharisees who knew their scriptures inside and out. They knew exactly what was happening. This is why there is almost a panic in their voices, “Get your disciples under control!” Jesus entering Jersusalem as the King could be catastrophic. The full power and force of the Roman Empire could come down on him, and them. Jesus and the Pharisees agreed on much and they probably saw him as someone who close to their camp. The more I think about it, the more I think their response was out of legitimate concern for him and them. The Pharisees held no love for the Empire but they were no zealots.
The king has returned! The son of David has returned to claim his throne and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. That’s kind of the point of the whole, “The rocks will cry out,” bit.
It’s fun to know a bit of history and see the different layers come out of the story.
