want

Sometimes what seem like dumb questions turn out to be really smart ones.

Look at this, from John 5:2-6: “Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”

What kind of question is that? Of course this poor man wants to get well! He’s been crippled or 38 years, and he spends his days laying by a pool just hoping for a miracle.

But Jesus, who knows our inmost thoughts, never asked dumb questions. His complete and sympathetic knowledge of the human heart is behind this simple query, which carries more significance than it seems. Are you ready to trust? Jesus asks. Do you have faith? 

Even more, are you ready to stand up and take your place in my kingdom? Are you ready to get to work?

Immediately following this incident (Jesus does heal this man) Jesus is challenged again by the religious leaders - you can read about it in the rest of John 5. In fact, I recommend you do, because this is another of the discourses John records, where Jesus explains himself and his mission. Those religious leaders can’t see Jesus for who he is; to them he’s a threat, a challenge to their authority who must be put in his place.

It’s almost as if Jesus has the same question for them: Do you want to get well? And their answer is an emphatic no. They like their lives; they don’t think they need a Savior.

What about me? Do I want to get well? Am I ready to leave behind my love for worldly pleasures, my longing for acceptance, my desire for good things, my indulgence of my own appetites? Am I ready to acknowledge Jesus’ complete lordship of my life?

Because that’s what it will take to cure what ails me. Do I really want Jesus? Or do I want this life?

yes he can

Today as I read through Mark 2, the confusion of the Jewish religious leaders portrayed seemed comical. Look at these examples:

“Now some teachers of the law were sitting there, thinking to themselves, ‘Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?’

“Immediately Jesus knew in his spirit that this was what they were thinking in their hearts, and he said to them, ‘Why are you thinking these things? Which is easier: to say to this paralyzed man, “Your sins are forgiven,” or to say, “Get up, take your mat and walk”? But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.’ So he said to the man, ‘I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.’” (Verses 6-11.)

“When the teachers of the law who were Pharisees saw him eating with the sinners and tax collectors, they asked his disciples: ‘Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?’

“On hearing this, Jesus said to them, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.’” (Verses 15-17.)

“Now John’s disciples and the Pharisees were fasting. Some people came and asked Jesus, ‘How is it that John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees are fasting, but yours are not?’

Jesus answered, ‘How can the guests of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? They cannot, so long as they have him with them. But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them, and on that day they will fast.’” (Verses 18-20.)

“One Sabbath Jesus was going through the grainfields, and as his disciples walked along, they began to pick some heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, ‘Look, why are they doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath?’

“. . . . Then he said to them, ‘The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath.’” (Verses 23, 27&28.)

Over and over again, these doctrinal and legal experts sputtered, “You can’t do that!” And every time Jesus responded, in essence, in the same way: “Of course I can. You don’t get who I am. I have authority to forgive sins because I’m the prophesied Son of Man, and because I can forgive sins, I’m here for sinners. And all your laws about fasting and Sabbath observance are meant to make you fit to approach God, and yet in me God has approached you.”

I’m reminded of a church I visited once where an elder made a young man take his sunglasses off the top of his head in church. That young man’s demeanor turned sullen and stayed that way throughout the service. It seemed to me that elder prevented a son of the church from worshipping by enforcing a ticky-tack man-made rule.

Do we ever do that? Maybe. But we don’t when we look to Jesus’ life as our example. Jesus always, as in these passages, did what best served the peoples’ relationship with God. His heart was always for the individual, not for the institution.

There’s a lesson there for the church.

not yet

There’s a point in Jesus life where I wonder about God’s plan, and his timing. It’s recorded in John 4:1-3: “Now Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that he was gaining and baptizing more disciples than John — although in fact it was not Jesus who baptized, but his disciples. So he left Judea and went back once more to Galilee.”

If Jesus’ purpose on earth was to die, then why did he avoid a confrontation with the Pharisees at this point? It’s not like he’d be a better sacrifice later on. As a young man, he’d lived a perfect life, not one sin or shortcoming in three decades of living. He had every attribute necessary to be the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.

And he wasn’t like us, so in love with this world that he was reluctant to leave it. Jesus already knew what living with God was like; he left something far better to come to earth. 

For some reason, it wasn’t time. Why not?

One reason may have been that Jesus hadn’t yet finished explaining his purpose on earth. Just prior to this point he’d had his clandestine meeting with Nicodemus, the first of the discourses recorded in John whereby Jesus revealed who he was and what he was doing. Immediately after these verses, he gives his second discourse, to the Samaritan woman at the well. It may be that in addition to sacrificing himself, he intended to be sure he fully explained what was going on so that we could understand it.

Along with that, there were many other teachings he had yet to leave us not related to his upcoming death, sermons where he would teach about faithful living. All those red letters in our Bibles are critically important.

Additionally, he had lives to touch yet. There were people to heal, and children to raise from the dead. There were men and women to convert. By all these signs and through all this teaching, he proved himself and taught us how to do his work. 

I’m amazed once again at the intricacy of God’s plan, and the thoroughness of Jesus’ work. What point the sacrifice if we don’t understand it? And, understanding it, how are we to take advantage of it? And then, how do we join Jesus in kingdom work? It’s all there, unfolded day by day in Jesus’ walk on earth. 

No wonder Jesus went into Galilee; his love for us is so strong that he had to be sure. It seems to me he may have stayed to enable as many of us as possible would get it, would see what happened and why. Probably God had every word and gesture of this living testament choreographed from the beginning.

It’s a reminder that God’s timing is always right, and his plans cover everything and never fail. God’s actions are always about more than one thing; in helping one he leads others into prayer and witnesses to still others. I’ll never understand either the timing or the plan, but it’s an immense comfort to know that both are perfect.

no trust

There’s a striking moment in the early phase of Jesus’ public ministry that I don’t think I’ve taken notice of before. Here it is, as recorded in John 4:23-25: 

“Now while he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Festival, many people saw the signs he was performing and believed in his name. But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people. He did not need any testimony about mankind, for he knew what was in each person.”

I never before thought about Jesus as being untrusting, but what cause could he possibly have to trust us? As the passage says, he knows what’s in each one of us. He knows how quickly we’re tempted away by other things. He knows how willingly we forsake him for temporary pleasures. He knows how readily we forget about him as we go about our days.

There is little in us to trust. That’s a hard truth to swallow, but I have to acknowledge that I’ve betrayed Jesus more than once. In fact, if I accept that most of what Jesus calls me to is lived out on behalf of other people, I wonder if my casual integrity with Jesus should make others leery to trust me as well. 

It makes me wonder why Jesus cares so much for me when when he knows so much about me. That’s another thing for me to be grateful for.

stepping back

Maybe you, like me, watched NFL playoff football this weekend. If so, you might have seem a shot on the sideline late in the Chargers-Ravens game, when Ravens quarterback Lamar Jackson was sitting on the sidelines next to former quarterback Joe Flacco. Jackson had just thrown a touchdown pass and players were coming up to congratulate him; Joe would glance at each one as they came up and then look away. For those of us who’ve watched the sport for years, it was a perfect snapshot of the once-great leader now taking a backseat to the young new guy.

That’s hard to do. Sometimes at work you end up with a new manager who’s 15 years younger than you, and it’s your job to mentor him or her along. Sometimes a ministry you started passes into someone else’s hands. Sometimes you sit in the bleachers at the school concert watching another teacher lead your old class into the auditorium. 

I wonder what it was like for John the Baptist. Look at this, from John 1:29-37: “The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! This is the one I meant when I said, “A man who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.” I myself did not know him, but the reason I came baptizing with water was that he might be revealed to Israel.’

“. . . . The next day John was there again with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, ‘Look, the Lamb of God!’ When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus.”

After years of being the big draw, the reason people came out into the desert, it was time for John to pass the torch. As Jesus’ ministry took off, John’s wound to a close. Was it hard to watch his disciples leave him to follow someone else, even if that was exactly what John was working toward?

John seems to have handled it very graciously, and that makes him a great example for us. We should never forget that the reason we do ministry, the reason we tell the Gospel story, the reason we serve, is to point to Jesus. God should get the glory, not us.

I need to remember that, because I’m not opposed to a little glory coming my way. Like everyone, I like to hear I’ve done well, or helped someone out, or maybe even impressed a little. When that happens, I need to remember that God gave me the gifts and the opportunity, and often the words. By myself I’m a selfish jerk; without the Spirit I’ll never understand the things of God. If I ever do get a glimmer of insight, or do an unselfish thing, that’s God and not me. 

Can I live this week giving all the glory to God and wanting none for myself? More to the point, can I do that without regret or wistfulness? I’m going to try it and find out.

following

There’s a fascinating choice made by Simon Peter, James and John early in Luke 5 that I think represents the challenge of faithful following by any successful Christian.

Luke 5 opens with Jesus preaching from Simon Peter’s boat, which was generous of Peter considering he’d just spent the whole night on the boat trying unsuccessfully to catch fish. Finished with his sermon, he gives Peter some of the worst fishing advice he’d ever gotten: go back to the same place where you just got skunked and try again. Only now, Peter knew, the odds were worse because it was daylight. But he and his crew did as Jesus suggested. Here’s the story, from Luke 5:6-11: 

“When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

“When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, ‘Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!’ For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.

“Then Jesus said to Simon, ‘Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.’ So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.”

Here’s what I find interesting: immediately following their best day ever as small business owners, they chucked the whole thing and started a new career. They could have decided to chase their newfound success. They could have decided they had a newly discovered technique that would give them a competitive advantage. They could have decided to see if they could replicate their success by again lulling the fish with clumsy nocturnal net-casting and then sneaking up on them in the daylight. 

In other words, they could have followed success instead of the Savior.

That’s a good definition of the choice forced on us by true discipleship. As we follow Jesus we’ll do things in his name and for his kingdom that work. They may work really well. They may gain a lot of attention for us, and we may decide we’re pretty good at this ministry business. In fact, we could decide to start working for the success of our ministry.

Or we could come to the conclusion that the health and wealth and leisure we have in life, all gifts of God’s providence, are why we’re really here. We could decide to start working for the success of our careers and retirement plans.

Better if we decide to leave it all high and dry on shore, and follow Jesus. It takes a lot of faith to turn your back on a lifetime of investment and walk away, but look at what they gained: the chance to walk with Jesus as he changed the course of history.

We have the same chance.

led by the Spirit

It’s possible I don’t completely understand how the Holy Spirit works. Actually, it’s likely. But I think I put limits on the Spirit’s role. I think of the Holy Spirit as an advisor, kind of an internal conscience that lets me know something is a bad idea. Or as the one who can help me understand God. I don’t often think of the Spirit as having an active role in my spiritual development.

Jesus’ earthly experience with the Holy Spirit has me rethinking things a bit. As a grown young man, Jesus went into the desert to meet John the Baptist and be baptized, so that he could meet all the requirements God laid on his people. Matthew tells us what happened, in Matthew 3:13-4:1: 

“As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.’

“Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.”

I normally read these two stories separately, so it never really clicked with me that the very first thing the Spirit did after resting on Jesus at his baptism was to lead him to forty days of fasting and temptation. But the way Matthew tells it, this formative period wasn’t Jesus’ idea. God through the Spirit led him there.

And Jesus followed, showing full obedience and trust. It wasn’t like the Spirit was taking him somewhere fun, but Jesus was willing to be led anyway. In this way he shows us that he was on earth to do whatever God charged him with. His agenda wasn’t his own, but completely his father’s.

If I put the Spirit into that interpreter-conscience box, I might miss the times he’s trying to move me to action. I expect him to help me with my thoughts; in fact, he can help me know what to do. 

I’m not sure yet exactly what this means for life, except I probably need to listen more attentively. It reminds me that the three persons of God are still God, and united in doing God’s work. It won’t do to give one less credence than the others.