Have your read Psalm 72? If you haven't, please do. If you have, read it again. It's a prayer that God would give the king (the royal son) righteousness and justice so that he might rule righteously and justly. As the prayer unfolds, the existence under his righteous and just reign is longingly expressed: the oppressor is crushed, the poor and needy are defended, and even the land produces in abundance under his stewardship. His rule would be "like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth." All authority would be yielded to him as "all kings fall down before him, all nations serve him." And why? For "he delivers the needy when he calls, / the poor and him who has no helper. / He has pity on the weak and the needy, / and saves the lives of the needy. / From oppression and violence he redeems their life, / and precious is their blood in his sight."
The psalm is attributed to Solomon, David's son. He clearly had a vision for what it would mean to have a righteous ruler on the throne. Unfortunately, it was not realized in is reign. In truth, his idolatry led him far away from this ideal and after his death it was acknowledged that his vanity had put a "heavy yoke" upon those he ruled. Solomon's successor was counseled to "be a servant to this people today and serve them, and speak good words to them when you answer them, then they will be your servants forever" (1 Kings 12:7). That advice was a fitting summary of the psalm that Solomon had penned. Alas, Solomon did not follow it. Nor did his successor, Rehoboam.
I think it safe to say that no ruler has ever fulfilled this vision. Whether monarch, dictator, president, or prime minister, no one has ever succeeded in engineering heaven on earth, no matter how noble his or her intentions. There is only one king that has ever graced the Earth who is capable of achieving this longed-for existence. He is the one who confronts us on Palm Sunday. He it is who ushers in the Kingdom of Heaven with his humble entrance into Jerusalem.
But it must be noted that the full realization of a perfect human existence under the rule of our benevolent King awaits the consummation of the age. Only when the new heaven and earth are manifested will we completely experience the promised peaceable kingdom. Till then, we await him and pray with the faithful, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!" (Revelation 22:20).
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
Heaven on Earth?
Labels:
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Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Full Disclosure
Perhaps you know the famous quote from President John F. Kennedy's inaugural speech, "And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." The brilliance of the line is how it succinctly expresses the obligations of citizenship. It is a call to service, to sacrifice, on behalf of your country and its aims.
The intent of the phrase could well be adapted to the task of preaching the gospel. Too often the gospel is presented as a pretty gift, wrapped in bright paper and topped with a bow, that's handed to the listener in a manner that communicates, "Ask anything you want from God and he'll give it to you -- no strings attached!" Unfortunately, this does not accurately represent the enterprise given the church by its Savior. It's true that the price necessary for a sinner's redemption has been fully paid by the obedience of Christ. By faith and faith alone are the benefits of that meritorious work put upon the sinner's account. He need not add anything. That amazing grace needs to be preached and preached boldly. But Jesus says there is more to the gospel call. The other side of the coin is the call to discipleship. And this is where the enterprise gets challenging. It involves not just what God has done for you, but what he calls you to do for him.
Jesus taught that if one is not willing to be more loyal to him than to anyone or any thing else, even one's own life, then that one cannot be his disciple. And if one is not willing to bear the suffering and rejection contained in the cross, a cross that awaits each follower of Jesus, then that one cannot be his disciple. His suffering has, indeed, freely bought the sinner salvation, but faith in him will not be free from suffering, for faith in Jesus sets the believer against the world. It is inevitable, therefore, that at some point in the life of a follower of Jesus his or her loyalty to Christ will be tested, and when that happens whether or not that one is a disciple will be revealed. This is why Jesus asks those who would follow him to count the cost.
We want to be faithful to call people to repentance and faith in Jesus Christ, but for the sake of full disclosure, we must also tell them all that that call entails. If they choose to follow Jesus they do so at the risk of losing everything they hold dear. It will not be a popular message but it's the one we are expected to give. After all, we've been commissioned to make disciples of all nations and a would-be disciple must count the cost.
The intent of the phrase could well be adapted to the task of preaching the gospel. Too often the gospel is presented as a pretty gift, wrapped in bright paper and topped with a bow, that's handed to the listener in a manner that communicates, "Ask anything you want from God and he'll give it to you -- no strings attached!" Unfortunately, this does not accurately represent the enterprise given the church by its Savior. It's true that the price necessary for a sinner's redemption has been fully paid by the obedience of Christ. By faith and faith alone are the benefits of that meritorious work put upon the sinner's account. He need not add anything. That amazing grace needs to be preached and preached boldly. But Jesus says there is more to the gospel call. The other side of the coin is the call to discipleship. And this is where the enterprise gets challenging. It involves not just what God has done for you, but what he calls you to do for him.
Jesus taught that if one is not willing to be more loyal to him than to anyone or any thing else, even one's own life, then that one cannot be his disciple. And if one is not willing to bear the suffering and rejection contained in the cross, a cross that awaits each follower of Jesus, then that one cannot be his disciple. His suffering has, indeed, freely bought the sinner salvation, but faith in him will not be free from suffering, for faith in Jesus sets the believer against the world. It is inevitable, therefore, that at some point in the life of a follower of Jesus his or her loyalty to Christ will be tested, and when that happens whether or not that one is a disciple will be revealed. This is why Jesus asks those who would follow him to count the cost.
We want to be faithful to call people to repentance and faith in Jesus Christ, but for the sake of full disclosure, we must also tell them all that that call entails. If they choose to follow Jesus they do so at the risk of losing everything they hold dear. It will not be a popular message but it's the one we are expected to give. After all, we've been commissioned to make disciples of all nations and a would-be disciple must count the cost.
Labels:
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Wednesday, March 2, 2016
The Parable of the Two Prodigals
As we represent our Savior and his gospel in the world, our hearts must be in the right place. A healthy view of our own need of grace leads us to be humble and grateful for his mercy, eager to see others embrace the good news, and to rejoice with the angels in heaven when sinners come to Christ in repentance and faith. But if we presume a place of privilege, or view the blessings of salvation as entitlements, then we have lost sight of the grace extended to us and are quick to judge others as unworthy. Jesus knew the Pharisees were blinded by just this kind of unloving self-righteousness and offered a set of three parables to expose the hardness of their hearts (Luke 15:1-32).
The parables have a number of things in common: each includes something that is lost, each reveals that the lost item has great value for the one seeking it, each includes a celebration in response to the lost item being recovered. But it’s the last of the parables, the one known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son, that most directly addresses the Pharisees’ ungraciousness. In the story, the “older brother” is the placeholder for the Pharisees. His refusal to celebrate at the return of his wastrel younger brother parallels the Pharisees lack of appreciation for what was transpiring in the ministry of Jesus. He received and ate with “tax collectors and sinners” because that is what you do when something precious that was lost is found. Like the repentant younger brother, they were being restored to the family, and Jesus rejoiced.
Let me suggest that the younger brother was not the only prodigal in the family. He may have gone off and wasted his inheritance, but the older brother wasted the opportunity afforded him by staying home and close to his father. Though he spent each day with him, he was not shaped by him. Wasn’t this the Pharisees’ problem? They were diligent to study and obey the law and prophets and yet did not know the God revealed in them. If they had, they too would be celebrating. As it was, their reluctance only demonstrated their scrupulosity was nothing but grudging obedience.
We don’t want to follow the example of either of the prodigals in this parable (unless it is to repent like the younger of the two). To hedonistically squander our possessions is to be a poor steward of God's grace. But neither do we want to squander the access afforded us to the throne of grace by not being formed more and more into the image of the One through whom grace has come. Our union with Christ can give us eyes to see the mercy of God on display when even the most debauched of people humble themselves before the living God. That is not something to protest, but to celebrate.
The parables have a number of things in common: each includes something that is lost, each reveals that the lost item has great value for the one seeking it, each includes a celebration in response to the lost item being recovered. But it’s the last of the parables, the one known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son, that most directly addresses the Pharisees’ ungraciousness. In the story, the “older brother” is the placeholder for the Pharisees. His refusal to celebrate at the return of his wastrel younger brother parallels the Pharisees lack of appreciation for what was transpiring in the ministry of Jesus. He received and ate with “tax collectors and sinners” because that is what you do when something precious that was lost is found. Like the repentant younger brother, they were being restored to the family, and Jesus rejoiced.
Let me suggest that the younger brother was not the only prodigal in the family. He may have gone off and wasted his inheritance, but the older brother wasted the opportunity afforded him by staying home and close to his father. Though he spent each day with him, he was not shaped by him. Wasn’t this the Pharisees’ problem? They were diligent to study and obey the law and prophets and yet did not know the God revealed in them. If they had, they too would be celebrating. As it was, their reluctance only demonstrated their scrupulosity was nothing but grudging obedience.
We don’t want to follow the example of either of the prodigals in this parable (unless it is to repent like the younger of the two). To hedonistically squander our possessions is to be a poor steward of God's grace. But neither do we want to squander the access afforded us to the throne of grace by not being formed more and more into the image of the One through whom grace has come. Our union with Christ can give us eyes to see the mercy of God on display when even the most debauched of people humble themselves before the living God. That is not something to protest, but to celebrate.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Build a Wall?
What's the "takeaway" of the parable of the Good Samaritan? It's the call to compassion. This is the motivation that Jesus attributes to his character's actions. As the author of the parable, he chose his words carefully.
The telling of the story grew out of a discussion concerning what's often called "the summation of the law": "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself" (Luke 10:27). The man engaged with him, one who was skilled in rabbinic law, sought to limit his obligation by asking, "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus' masterstroke was to offer a story that put the focus back on the commandment, which says to love the neighbor "as yourself." Jesus wanted his inquisitor to put himself in the situation of the man who had been beaten and left half-dead. What would he want from someone who happened upon him, the actions of the priest and Levite who avoided the problem? Would it not be for a fellow human being (the inclusion of a Samaritan as hero was particularly loaded) to have mercy on him and help him? Would it not be compassion? If that's what you would want, Jesus infers, then "go and do likewise."
This is an important lesson for us, particularly now. Some self-described evangelicals are aligning themselves with politicians who promise them security and prosperity by staying on the other side of the road, the side that keeps them from having to embrace the messy process of compassion. But what if it was they who had to flee the devastation of war? What if was they who left a homeland of intractable economic woes, political unrest, and vicious gang violence? What if it was they who were seeking to create a safer, prosperous future for themselves and their families? It's challenging to see ourselves in the other, but isn't that what Jesus is asking of us -- to do for them what we would have done for us? (cf., Luke 6:31)
Do I sound like a "liberal"? Do I sound like a woosy? I hope I sound like Jesus.
The issue of illegal immigration (to name just one of a myriad of issues) is complicated. But we must not lose sight of the fact that we are Christians first, Americans second. As citizens of the heavenly kingdom, compassion, the etymology of which is "suffer with," trumps nationalism. We must embrace the governing ethic of our King, "Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful" (Luke 6:37).
The telling of the story grew out of a discussion concerning what's often called "the summation of the law": "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself" (Luke 10:27). The man engaged with him, one who was skilled in rabbinic law, sought to limit his obligation by asking, "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus' masterstroke was to offer a story that put the focus back on the commandment, which says to love the neighbor "as yourself." Jesus wanted his inquisitor to put himself in the situation of the man who had been beaten and left half-dead. What would he want from someone who happened upon him, the actions of the priest and Levite who avoided the problem? Would it not be for a fellow human being (the inclusion of a Samaritan as hero was particularly loaded) to have mercy on him and help him? Would it not be compassion? If that's what you would want, Jesus infers, then "go and do likewise."
This is an important lesson for us, particularly now. Some self-described evangelicals are aligning themselves with politicians who promise them security and prosperity by staying on the other side of the road, the side that keeps them from having to embrace the messy process of compassion. But what if it was they who had to flee the devastation of war? What if was they who left a homeland of intractable economic woes, political unrest, and vicious gang violence? What if it was they who were seeking to create a safer, prosperous future for themselves and their families? It's challenging to see ourselves in the other, but isn't that what Jesus is asking of us -- to do for them what we would have done for us? (cf., Luke 6:31)
Do I sound like a "liberal"? Do I sound like a woosy? I hope I sound like Jesus.
The issue of illegal immigration (to name just one of a myriad of issues) is complicated. But we must not lose sight of the fact that we are Christians first, Americans second. As citizens of the heavenly kingdom, compassion, the etymology of which is "suffer with," trumps nationalism. We must embrace the governing ethic of our King, "Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful" (Luke 6:37).
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Not a Sacrifice
If there was a fire in your apartment building forcing you to leave quickly, what would you grab on the way out? What would you want to save? If you have children . . . I suppose that goes without saying. Or a pet, likewise, I assume you’d be sure to take the dog or cat. But what else? Passport? Photos? Computer? A painting? What if you could only take one or two things? What would you choose? Whatever you ended up choosing would say something about what you think is most valuable (and not necessarily monetarily) among all of your possessions.
For the men in two of Jesus’ parables, one who discovered an unprecedented pearl, the other a buried treasure, the realization of what was most valuable didn’t come at the expense of a tragedy. Just the opposite was true. Theirs was a discovery that brought joy. How could it not? They knew that what they had come upon was more desirable than everything they owned and quickly gave it all up. The loss that these men experienced to possess the prize turned out to not be loss at all. In truth, they had exponentially gained.
Jesus likens their response to the discovery that the kingdom of heaven is opened to sinners such as you and me. When the reality of what it means to be included in the kingdom is understood, all that might have to be left behind to be part of it shouldn’t feel like a sacrifice. Too often, however, we behave as though it were a tragedy, like being left with a couple of precious items as we watch our building burn to the ground.
Why is it so difficult for some of us to receive the kingdom with joy? I suspect it’s because we don’t really grasp that damnation awaited us. The parable of the net, which immediately follows those alluded to above, teaches that at the end of this age there will be a judgment that only the “good” will survive. All who are “evil” will be sent away to an eternal existence too terrifying to imagine.
The hard truth is that unless God acts none will be judged to be good on that day. But the gift of God is a Savior who was good, perfectly good, and our faith in his finished work opens the door to the kingdom. The apostle Paul understood this better than any other, as he was the “foremost” of sinners. This is why he wrote, “Through him we have . . . obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” Like the men in the parables, he joyfully “suffered the loss of all things” and counted them “as rubbish, in order that [he might] gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of [his] own” but a righteousness that “comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith.” An exponential gain to be sure!
Sunday, December 27, 2015
As a City Set on a Hill
“A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.” This is Jesus’ plan for his disciples. They are to be on display, unavoidably on display. This makes the introverts among us very uncomfortable. And, as the experts tell us that our society is split just about down the middle between introverts and extroverts, that means that there’s a good chance 50% of Jesus’ disciples are not thrilled with his plan. But this is the Master’s plan, so everyone needs to be “on board.”
One thing that will help is to understand that being on display for Jesus is not the same as being on display for Macy's. Jesus doesn’t place you like a mannequin in a window, inviting people to stop and stare. His interests run much deeper than marketing. What he displays are the new lives of those whom he has brought to God through the reconciling power of his cross. These are lives that are being shaped by the will of God. Lives, therefore, that are full of wisdom and understanding, bearing fruit to his glory.
Since this is the case, it doesn’t matter whether you are an introvert or an extrovert. What’s going to make the difference is your knowledge and love of God’s will and your desire to have it mold you. The person you will become will be one who will stand out not because you feel comfortable telling jokes in a crowd, or are able to walk up to strangers and easily engage in small talk. You will stand out, whether extrovert or introvert, because “in the sight of the peoples” you will possess wisdom and understanding that comes from knowing and doing the will of God (Deuteronomy 4:6-7)
When Jesus speaks as he does about his disciples being a very visible city there is no “might be” about it. It is what we are. If Moses is correct, being faithful to pursue the will of God in our lives will make us a city that is to be envied, a place where people want to live.
Labels:
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Thursday, December 24, 2015
Wilt Thou Love God, as He Thee?
Wilt thou love God, as he thee? Then digest,
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In heaven, doth make his Temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting -- for he ne'er begun --
Hath deigned to choose thee by adoption,
Co-heir t' his glory, and Sabbath' endless rest.
And as a robbed man, which by search doth find
His stol'n stuff sold, must lose or buy 't again:
The Son of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom he'd made, and Satan stol'n, to unbind.
'Twas much that man was made like God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.
— John Donne (1572-1631)
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In heaven, doth make his Temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting -- for he ne'er begun --
Hath deigned to choose thee by adoption,
Co-heir t' his glory, and Sabbath' endless rest.
And as a robbed man, which by search doth find
His stol'n stuff sold, must lose or buy 't again:
The Son of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom he'd made, and Satan stol'n, to unbind.
'Twas much that man was made like God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.
— John Donne (1572-1631)
Labels:
adoption,
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Christmas,
Holy Sonnets,
incarnation,
John Donne,
mercy
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