accomplished (Luke 7)

The story starts with John, at least for Luke. John the Baptist, that is. Luke, the history writer, starts his narrative not with the coming of Jesus but with the coming of John. And now these relatives, Jesus and John, are well into their lives. In fact, in their early thirties, they are almost done with their lives.

John is in prison and sends a couple of his followers to find out what is happening with Jesus, to be sure that things are as he predicted. At the end of his life, John wants to be sure that he hasn’t wasted it.

Jesus sends the message back: I’m doing what you predicted and what Isaiah predicted. It’s all good.

John’s concern is a familiar one, even for many people tonight. They have already bought their presents, confident that they know what was wanted. But now, when it’s almost too late, they want to be sure. It’s the night before the wedding, is this right? You are ready to change careers, to change jobs, to take a plunge. And you are sure, but….

Or maybe, you are sharing the same concern John had: Is Jesus really who everything seems to say He is?

And what Jesus says to John’s followers, he says to us: Go and tell what you have seen and heard.

Merry Christmas.

unexpecting (luke 5)

I’ve been looking at the people who were expecting Jesus. In the town of Nain there was a person who wasn’t expecting him at all.  But her lack of expectation didn’t stop Jesus from helping.

Jesus and his disciples and a crowd were walking toward town. A funeral procession was coming out of town at the same time. The body of a boy was being carried out, the only son of a widow.

This woman was doubly bereaved. All support was gone. She was going to be at the mercy of others. But at that moment, Jesus showed up.

His heart went out to her.

The boy was given life back, the woman was given hope. And Jesus showed unexpected, unrequested, unbelievable grace.

But then again, that’s what grace is about.

Hungry and rich (Luke 5)

Levi had a pretty good job, at least financially. He collected taxes.

When you have the Roman army backing you up, you can make a comfortable living collecting taxes. You don’t have many friends, other than tax collectors and other people who have money but are socially unacceptable. But there is, I’m guessing, a sense of community among the outcasts.

One day, however, Levi, who is also known as Matthew, is sitting at his desk and Jesus walks by and says, “follow me.”

An odd statement this is. It’s clear enough, this two word invitation, but out of the blue, it doesn’t seem to fit.

Except to Levi.

He gets up and follows Jesus. And then he throws a party. It may have been a going out of business party. It may have been a “here’s the man who gave me meaning” party. It may have been one of Levi’s great parties.

Whatever the theme, the stated guest was Jesus, and lots of people came. The outcasts sat inside. The religious leaders stood outside, scolding. But Jesus wasn’t at all confused about where he wanted to be. For him, sitting with people who were rich financially and hungry for meaning was exactly where he wanted to be.

It was far more fun than standing with people who were already so stuffed with meaning that they couldn’t hear the voice that counted.

friends (Luke 5)

What do we do? How can we help? When we have friends who are in the middle of pain and suffering, when we have friends who have no way to get to Jesus for healing because of the crowds, what do we do? I mean, we can’t heal anyone ourselves. We can’t take away the pain and the doubt and the uncertainty and the paralysis.

The man on the mat couldn’t move either. Even if he wanted to get to Jesus, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move on his own, and the room where Jesus was teaching was full of people, including the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. In other words, the people who desperately  needed healing were being kept away by inertia of the people who were trying to find out whether Jesus was being accurate.

Finally, the friends of the man ripped up the roof and lowered him through the hole.

When you really want to get your friends to see Jesus, to be right in front of him. nothing material matters.

And He knows. And cares. And sees the faith of friends.

Beggars (Luke 5)

We look down on beggars. We figure that they are people who couldn’t get control of themselves, who couldn’t find socially acceptable ways to live. We ignore them if we can. We turn our eyes away. We drop a quarter in the bucket at Christmas, hoping that the beggar with the bell will stop ringing in our hearts.

The beggar in the middle of Luke 5, however, wasn’t an ordinary beggar. He had leprosy. He was shut off from normal human contact. He had to tell people to stay away. He had lost relationship, was losing his body, and was on his way to losing his life.

When this man was begging, he wasn’t asking for a few coins to get a beer, he was asking for his life. Literally. He had no hope for ever being normal again. And so he was begging for Jesus to heal him.

And his begging wasn’t linked to Jesus’ capacity to heal him. “If you are willing,” he said, “you can make me clean.” He knew Jesus could. He asked if Jesus would.

1. Are we begging for healing because we know our lives are ending?

2. Are we confident that Jesus has the capacity and we just are asking if he has the willingness?

3. Are we willing to be known as beggars, for our lives, if that is a way for healing to happen?

Patronizing (Luke 5)

“But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

Potentially smarmy words, these words coming from Peter. Words or at least the tone of words that would sound familiar to most of us.

“I can’t find my keys.”

“Did you look in your pocket?”

“I’ve looked everywhere, but because you say so…”

Hear that tone of voice? It’s the tone that says, “This is what I know. This is my area of expertise.” We know it, we use it, we justify it.

Peter had been fishing all night. Jesus told him, in the middle of the day, the time when there weren’t any fish to be found, the time when only an incompetent fisher would be seen throwing out a net,  Jesus told him to fish. In Peter’s mind, Jesus was telling him to make a fool of himself.

Of course, Peter was ready with the explanation: “Yeah, these rabbis, they think that they know everything. Today, Jesus, bright guy, good scholar I’m sure, but no fisher. Today Jesus said, put out into the deep water. Yeah, I know. Looked pretty foolish, but he was in the boat. What could I do. Had to humor him.”

That may have been what was in Peter’s head. I know it’s in my head at times. “Yes, God told me to be at peace. But I’ve got this stuff to get done, I’ve got to write and talk and counsel and speak. I’m sure he knows theology, but real life? I just don’t know.”

And then, when we are done being patronizing, looking down on God, and we go ahead and try whatever it is that we are being told to do, we discover that our nets are full.  Peter’s attitude didn’t change until after the full nets were dragged ashore. He didn’t have time to think. But when he thought, he realized that telling the God who had made the fish how not to catch fish was pretty foolish indeed.

But the most important thing? Peter obeyed, even with an attitude.

Sometimes God even talks to people who are obeying him just to prove him wrong.

Spectators (Luke 5)

A shore can make a great amphitheater.  Not the kind that is sand for a thousand feet, not a beach, but a shore. Kind of rocky, hill creating a bowl, that kind of shore. And so, with that kind of shore in mind, it is possible to imagine a crowd listening to Jesus as he was standing on the shore, speaking.

But just like with real people, Bible people struggled to hear. The moved in close. People pushed from behind. People slipped in front. And now, Jesus is standing with his heels touching the water.

He could have stepped backwards ON the water, you know. He would do that later. And he could have done it now, except for for the truth that for that kind of action you want close friends, people who will understand that it is a rare event, intended to make a point.  With this group, it would be entertainment; they would be mere spectators. they would want the next big event.

Instead, Jesus pulled in an eavesdropper, Peter, who was working on the shore, perhaps torn between wanting to hear Jesus and being really annoyed at these people tripping over his nets. Jesus climbed into his boat and then called Peter over to take him out on the water.

Sometimes Jesus pulls the most unlikely people into relationship.  Rather than the people seemingly devoted to listening, he calls to people who are otherwise occupied and says, “I just want to have you do what you already know how to do, just to help me out, just for a little while.” As Peter who discover, this “little while” would change his whole future, would lead to his death, would make him be the unlikely leader of the early church.

But for starters, Peter just rowed his boat.

And that was enough to start.

Away (Luke 4)

It’s okay to hide.

Sometimes, any way.

We looked at some people searching for Jesus yesterday. He had spent the night healing people, whatever was brought to him. When day came, he left for a secluded place. He needed some rest. And then the people came looking for him, wanting him to stay and keep healing them.

This means that when he stopped and went to find a place away, there were people who hadn’t been healed yet. There were people who still had problems. There were people who didn’t have their lives together. And Jesus walked away.

We think that as God, he could have kept going. But he was also fully man, which meant that he needed to sleep, to rest, to be away. Which means that it is okay to be human. It is acceptable after a heavy day of work to go away, to head home, to leave work undone.

When you are working hard doing what God calls you to do, you have permission by example to not do everything, to not heal everyone, to go away.

And that is something to anticipate.

Focus (Luke 4)

Jesus had boundaries.

He had never read the book, “Boundaries”, not having created the authors of that book yet. However, he knew that doing everything and being always with everyone was outside his reason for being.

So he went away.

The text at the end of the fourth chapter of Luke suggests that he had pulled a ministry all-nighter. People showed up sick and he sent them away well. It started in the evening and went until daylight. Finally, he went away.

He went to a secluded space. And the crowds came looking.  And he said, “no”. Actually, he said that saying yes to helping them was saying no to every other city and every other synagogue and every other person who needed his words. His reason? He was sent to preach the kingdom of God.

People were seeking him not as a kingdom speaker but as a healer. To be blunt, they wanted what would make them feel better rather than what would make everyone whole.  And so Jesus moves on. He refuses to be the Jesus that they want him to be. He has to be the Jesus he was sent to be. He took his direction not from people but from God.

And in that, he sets a wonderful example.

Authority (luke 4)

I am aware of the dangers of authority, or perhaps more accurately, of authoritarianism. There is a tremendous danger in rigidity, in rejection of individuality, in rampant conformity.

Religion is frequently associated with authoritarianism.  When we read in Luke 4 that the people ‘were amazed at his [Jesus'] teaching, for his message was with authority,” we begin to think of the authoritarian excesses.

But the people listening to Jesus had lives full of authoritarians. Their king was Herod, for goodness sake, and he was a puppet of Rome. Their religious experience was guided by people who were incredibly detailed about rituals and routines and restrictions. They were constantly being told how their lives were to be run.

Somewhere in all this, however, something was lacking. In all of the self-confidence and arrogance and cultural and political demands, there wasn’t anyone with clear authority, anyone who could speak with the calm assurance of the one who is really in charge. Those who are trying to maintain position bluster and threaten and beg and bluff. Those who know that they are in charge don’t need such theatrics. They know what is true and speak what is true and can care and encourage and equip.

And that’s what the authority of Jesus was about. He knew that he was in charge, no matter what other people believed. And everyone who heard was amazed that someone, finally, didn’t just believe what was true, he was what was true.

And that kind of authority doesn’t need to be authoritarian.

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