Pursuit and a party

Beginnings and endings matter, especially in scriptural accounts. And, although I usually rail against chapter breaks in biblical texts, the monks got it right in Luke 15.

You know Luke 15. It’s the chapter where Jesus tells three parables: the shepherd who searched for the lost sheep until he found it, the woman who searched for the lost coin until she found it, and the prodigal son.

How often do we hear the parable of the prodigal son dissected apart from the rest of the chapter? Way too often. It’s better understood in the context of the chapter.

The beginning of chapter 15 introduces the scene. As the lowlifes of the day – the tax collectors and sinners – were drawn to Jesus and his message, the protectors of religious law – the Pharisees and Scribes – were complaining: "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." (Luke 15:2)

Jesus responded to their grumbling with three parables. His third parable, the familiar story about the prodigal son, ends with the older brother complaining because his father welcomed the wayward brother and prepared a feast for him. In other words, the father welcomed the sinner and ate with him.

Somehow it doesn’t seem fair that the wayward should get better treatment than the loyal. But if we examine Luke’s context, we see a strong parallel between the older son and the Pharisees. In holding the line on tradition and law, both had lost sight of relationship.

Jesus explained at the end of the chapter: “But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found." (Luke 15:32)

While the Pharisees grumbled at the unworthiness of sinners and tax collectors, Jesus’ outlook was of celebration: they were lost and have now been found.

How should we relate to “sinners”? With pursuit and a party.

There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.
Luke 15:7

The journey to the birth: angels

After the birth of John (described in Luke 1:57-66), his father Zechariah burst into impassioned praise of God and prophesied about the ministry of his son.

When Jesus was born, his Father sent an angel to announce the birth to the shepherds. The angel gave impassioned praise to God and foretold the ministry of this newborn son.

Zechariah’s excited song pales in comparison to the joy of the angels. After a sole angel gives the shepherds amazing news:

Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:11)

And then, unable to hold back their delight, a multitude of angels burst into praise.

• There is much in common with these two responses to miraculous births.
• The births were impossible but nothing is too hard for God.
• Each birth was first announced to others significant to ministry.
• God got all the credit
• Someone gave a glimpse into the future with God’s plan for redemption getting center stage.
• In the ministries of both John and Jesus, God’s plan was for all people.
• Both births connected Old Testament promises with New Testament plans.

Today we celebrate Christmas. I know Jesus probably wasn’t born today. I know people have largely re-claimed the day for materialistic worship. I know you can believe in Santa Claus without a problem but belief in Jesus offends.

None of that matters. What matters is this:

The plan worked.

Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to people He favors! Luke 2:14

The journey to the birth: the lowliest

Shepherds in ancient times were the lowlife of society. We might think of them as charming and sweet, but their neighbors didn’t. They were dirty and often dishonest.

By the standards of Jewish law, these shepherds watching over their flocks near Bethlehem were unclean. They were the bottom-dwellers of society in those days.

Only one ancient Jewish King – David – was called a shepherd. The term was not commonly used for leaders until Jesus claimed it for himself. At the time of his birth, shepherds were outcasts and sinners.

When John was born, as reported in Luke 1: 58, a crowd of friends of relatives rejoiced with Elizabeth. When Jesus was born, the family was in a strange town and the first people to hear of the birth were shepherds – lowlifes.

We tend to romanticize those shepherds but they give us a clue as to Jesus’ coming ministry. The Messiah was first introduced to the outcasts of society, those least deserving to meet a new King.

Throughout the first two chapters of Luke, we see that God interacted with simple people while making emperors and governors his servants. He didn’t introduce his son first to those whom we would think deserved to meet the Messiah. He selected those who deserved nothing and had nothing.

Like us.

In the same region, shepherds were living out in the fields and keeping watch at night over their flock. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. Luke 2:8-9

The journey to the birth: great and small

Caesar Augustus was emperor over the vast Roman Empire, which had brought peace to much of the civilized world. His troops were well-trained, his laws observed throughout the empire. He was considered a divine agent by many, meaning that his decisions and decrees were those of a god.

Augustus ordered a census, to establish how many people he could tax. And in those ancient days, people were required to return to their ancestral homes to be counted.

So Joseph, of the line of David, had to travel to Bethlehem. We see the account in Luke 2, a familiar story, perhaps.

Ironically, Augustus did serve as a divine agent, bringing about God’s purpose, although Augustus was unaware of how his census degree was part of God’s plan from the beginning.

Jesus was born in Bethlehem, not because Mary and Joseph plotted to make this baby a Messiah wanna-be. They were very poor and powerless within the Roman Empire. He was born in Bethlehem because an emperor wanted to count the people for tax purposes.

Who would think that God would use a Caesar as a piece in a divine chess game, sliding the pieces into place so that the Messiah was born in the town prophets had proclaimed centuries before?

The prophet Micah had declared:

"But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
though you are small among the clans of Judah,
out of you will come for me
one who will be ruler over Israel,
whose origins are from of old,
from ancient times. "
Micah 5:2

God brought his son to this earth through a curious passage, blessing poor and lowly people like Mary and Elizabeth and Zechariah with angel visits, while using a great emperor as a servant to facilitate the plan.

And so Jesus was born, a baby swaddled like all Jewish babies were swaddled. He had to diapered and fed, for he was a weak newborn.

The Father’s mystery was great. An emperor served unknowingly; the Father's son served humbly and with incredible grace.

And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death--
even death on a cross!
Phil 2:8

Tomorrow: lowliest

The journey to the birth: John

It seems like there were people everywhere in the story of John the Baptist’s birth. Crowds, throngs, groups.

When Zechariah went into the temple, a large crowd of people waited outside for him. When Elizabeth gave birth to John, all the neighbors and friends heard the news and rushed right over.

This crowd was even going to help the new parents name their son. When Elizabeth said he would be named “John,” the crowd protested, calling for a family name.

And they were all present when Zechariah endorsed the name as well and then burst into a passionate praise and prophecy when God allowed him to speak again. Lots of people around.
In contrast, Mary’s pregnancy and Jesus’ birth were relatively private.

Why?

John’s job was to prepare those crowds for the coming Messiah. He would go out among the people, calling for repentance, preparing them for Jesus’ ministry.

And we see it happening even at his birth.

The crowd heard Zechariah burst forth from his muteness with praise of God. There was no bitterness in Zechariah. Instead, Zechariah spoke powerfully to the people of God’s hand throughout the history of Israel.

As Zechariah recounted God’s power, the emphasis was on redemption. God had redeemed the people of Israel in the past – from Egyptian slavery, from exile into Babylon, “salvation from our enemies and from the clutches of those who hate us.” (Luke 1:71)

He, in a smaller way, did what his son would do in a much larger way: reminded people that God had saved them many times from enemies – and was about to accomplish the greatest rescue of all in sending the Messiah.

God’s merciful compassion was about to settle on this earth in a new and mysterious way. John would be the one to prepare the people for this perfect redemption.

And you, child, will be called a prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare His ways, to give His people knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins. (Luke 1:76-77)

Tomorrow: he comes

The journey to the birth: a song

If you were Mary, the mother of Jesus, it might have been easy to do a little spiritual gloating. When others tossed their heads at the shame of her pregnancy, she could have said, “but I am blessed to carry the Messiah! What have you done lately for God?”

One of the themes that runs through our journey to the birth of Jesus is that of humility. Mary was probably young, somewhere between 10 and 15 years old. As a woman, she had few rights and little power.

Wouldn’t it have felt splendid, after chatting with an angel and then knowing you were pregnant as he promised, to gloat just a bit?

Mary was a nothing in her culture, yet look how she responded to God’s grace to her:

My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. Luke 1:46-48

It was all about God’s grace, acknowledging her own humble state. Mary was a servant to God.

When Mary adds that “From now on all generations will call me blessed,”(Luke 1:48) I don’t think she said “all generations will call ME blessed” but rather, “all generations will call me BLESSED.” From what we know of Mary, the spotlight was never on herself but on God.

Then God’s acts of the past are named off, to review his nature. Don’t’ skip over this or you’ll miss a blessing. Notice God’s nature in these verses:

His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.
He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, even as he said to our fathers Luke 1:50-55 (NIV)

God blessed Mary and she saw this not as something she was worthy of, or something that elevated her, but as something that revealed God’s grace. How God reaches out to the undeserving is the core of the gospel.

Tomorrow: a birth!

The journey to the birth: Elizabeth

One of the most jarring parts of motherhood for me was losing my first name. For years, I was most often addressed as “Jane’s mother.”

Imagine how Elizabeth felt. She was John the Baptist’s mother. There, I just did it to her again.

What do we know about Elizabeth? According to Luke, she was from the daughters of Aaron. Aaron was the brother of Moses, assisting him as Moses led the people of Israel out of slavery in Egypt.
It’s always significant when a particular ancestor was selected. Aaron, as a aide, was selected for Elizabeth’s heritage.

Partnership hovered over Elizabeth. She didn’t need center stage. We also are told that she was righteous in God’s sight, “living without blame according to all the commandments and requirements of the Lord.” (Luke 1:7)

She was barren and now well along in years. The dream of a child was cold as the ashes of last year’s fire.

We see her heart when she found herself pregnant and gave God the credit: “The Lord has done this for me. He has looked with favor in these days to take away my disgrace among the people.” (Luke 1:25)

When Mary visited, full of the Holy Spirit and with child, Elizabeth did not compare babies and miracles as mothers often do. Instead, she blessed Mary. “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is your offspring!” (Luke 1:42)

Mary could have been dreading the response of her neighbors, for illegitimate births could trigger stoning. But here she got blessing and encouragement from Elizabeth.

“How could this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Elizabeth exulted, giving the first human understanding of the coming child Mary bore.

When John was born, Elizabeth rejoiced with her neighbors. She stood firm on the name that Zechariah had someone conveyed to her. And then she slipped out of our view.

We don’t share her joy as she raised this miracle son of hers. We don’t know if she had opportunity to know Jesus.

But we know she was content to be the mother of the man who prepared the way. She didn’t clamor for more but rejoiced in God’s favor to her. Her son seemed to have the same attitude to his ministry.

I wish I could sit down over tea with Elizabeth.

Blessed is she who has believed that what was spoken to her by the Lord will be fulfilled!” (Luke 1:45)

Tomorrow: A song

The journey to the birth: Mary

The angel laid the issue out directly before Mary: "Nothing is impossible with God."

The scene ripples with amazing words. Gabriel had appeared to Mary, who was a virgin, and promised that God will give her a son. Not only that, but "He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end." (Luke 1:32-33)

Mary's response was different from Zechariah's. Zechariah could do nothing to bring about a son. He'd been down that road for years. There were no more plans left.

However, there was something Mary could do to bear a son. She could have ended her virginity. Her words to Gabriel indicate she would not. "How can this be for I am a virgin?" she asked. She wasn't going to do anything to help God but wait on him.

And Gabriel assured her that God would do the work through his Spirit. We talked yesterday about God's use of barren women and, when Gabriel told Mary that Elizabeth was now six months pregnant, Mary would understand.

Gabriel did something else interesting. In proclaiming "nothing is impossible with God," he quoted from Genesis 18:14, from the encounter between the Lord and Sarah, Abraham's wife. She was barren and too old for child-bearing. When told she'd bear a son in a year, she laughed. So the Lord said to Abraham, "nothing is impossible is God."

Mary would have recognized that quote. Every Jewish child would. Her reaction contrasted with Sarah's. Hearing an impossible announcement, Mary did not respond with doubt, or even plans for action, but simple submission.

“Consider me the Lord’s slave,” said Mary.
“May it be done to me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38)

Tomorrow: Elizabeth's favor

The journey to the birth: Zechariah

God often signaled the birth of a significant person by ending the barrenness of a woman with this birth. Think of Sarah, barren until she birthed Isaac. Think of Hannah before Samuel was born. There are many more examples.

So when God appeared to Zechariah to promise the birth of a son, the pattern was repeated. The amazing coincidences abounded. Zechariah was in the priestly line of Levi, which meant he had priestly duties to fulfill.

On the Day of Atonement, a priest was selected by lot to go into the Holy of Holies, which is where God chose to meet with men. On that day, the priest offered up sacrifices for his own sin and also that of the people. There was great fear in going into the presence of God.

Zechariah was chosen by lot to go in – a once in a lifetime opportunity that probably many priests never got. And while he was in the Holy of Holies, an angel came with amazing news: his barren wife, Elizabeth, would have a son.

Zechariah asked for proof. He has seen miracles already: being chosen to go into the Holy of Holies and then having an angel appearing and speaking to him. The angel promises yet more: the birth of a son in Zechariah’s old age, and this son had a ministry: to prepare the way for the Messiah.

And he had seen God’s fingerprint in proclaiming a significant son being born to a barren woman.

But it’s important to notice that Zechariah was not struck dead for his unbelief. Because his words were doubting words, they were taken from him. He was sent out from the Holy of Holies with a mission and promises, including one that would restore his speech when his son was born.

When his wife, Elizabeth, discovered her pregnancy, she proclaimed what he was not yet able to speak:

"The Lord has done this for me," she said. "In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people." (Luke 1:25)

Tomorrow: a simple reply

Dive In: Luke

The third gospel, Luke’s report, takes a different tack than either Matthew or Mark. Luke was not an eyewitness of Jesus’ life and makes clear in the first four verses of his gospel that his purpose is to present an orderly, well-researched and truthful account of Jesus’ ministry.

Luke was a well-educated man, a Gentile, and an historian. He seems to be writing largely to Gentiles in Syrian Antioch as a shepherd or pastor, although scholars suggest he had three more purposes: to make a historical record, to teach theological truths, and to defend Jesus’ teachings.

Christians in Rome were accused of being law-breakers, because they considered God’s Word to be above Roman law. Luke may have been explaining and defending Christian practices to the Romans.

Luke wrote a lot. The gospel and Acts make up nearly half of the New Testament. A brilliant historian/writer, Luke’s research and attention to detail is amazing. His command of Greek is impressive.

While Matthew aimed his universality at getting Jews to see outside their Jewish limits, Luke’s universality was aimed at Gentiles and social outcasts. He cared for people, especially the poor and outsider.

Matthew concentrated on Jesus and the Kingdom (Jesus as King) and Mark focused on Jesus as Servant God. Luke concentrated on Jesus and the people.

Luke emphasized Jesus’ humanity, including His compassion for the unclean, women, sick and poor. Luke also emphasized Jesus’ role as savior and teacher. Luke includes 15 unique parables and devotes a huge chunk of his gospel to the gospel teaching of Jesus, including 28 parables.

Today many confuse Jesus with a moral teacher or a strict disciplinarian. Luke paints a different story. Through Luke’s account, we see Jesus as the lover of the poor and downtrodden.

Tomorrow, we’ll look at John.

Rock solid

He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out."

Luke 19:40

Jesus’ disciples were still in the blush of adrenaline, probably still waving the palm branches and slapping each other on the back, when the Pharisees scolded Jesus: tell your disciples to stop this!

Religious leaders then didn’t care for fanaticism then any more than we do today – at least in reference to Jesus.

However, I digress. I want to focus on Jesus’ response. He defended the joyous display: if these followers were quiet, the stones would shout out. I have assumed that Jesus was saying, if people didn’t praise me, creation will.

Jesus had a bigger message than that for the Pharisees. Stones have an interesting heritage in ancient Hebrew writings. From Abraham to Jacob to Joshua, stones were raised up in remembrance of God’s great work. Responding to God’s covenant of protection and offspring, Abraham set up stones at Bethel. (Gen. 12:7) Jacob set up a stone – the pillow where he’d laid his head – after pledging that the Lord was his God. (Also at Bethel. See Gen 28:21-22).

After the Israelites settled in the Promised Land, they pledged their loyalty to God. Joshua erected a stone to mark that decision. (Joshua 24:27) In each case, God had initiated the promise; he had come to his people with his provisions and protection.

In Habakkuk 2:11, we learn that stones of the wall testify against evil. One of the roles of stones was as a memorial, a testimony of a past decision.

So Jesus was telling the Pharisees that if his followers didn’t celebrate his coming, the memorials of the past would testify. God had planned the incarnation of Jesus from the beginning. God’s interaction with his people was consistent and his covenant clear: I will be your God and you will be my people. My part of the covenant is to protect and provide. Your part is to love and obey me.

If followers didn’t shout the celebration of the covenant, the stones served as a testimony. Israel’s very history celebrated the work of God and his great plan of redemption through the Messiah.

Jesus’ words to the Pharisees were compassionate. He reminded them of their own history. They could know the joy and freedom of the Messiah if they only looked at the testimony of their own stones. God had reached out in his covenant of love many times before. The stones cried out.

Not so worthy

Kids’ songs can get their hooks in our brains. Ever accidentally heard an old song and it sticks to your thoughts like white bread to the roof of your mouth?

Every time I read the story about Zacchaeus, the same thing happens. I start singing, “Zacchaeus was a wee little man, a wee little man was he….” I had to sit on my hands so I didn’t make the hand gestures to go with the words. (Here’s a link if the words are a little hazy for you.)

Having a children’s verse repeating in my head is a definite shortcoming when trying to read about our wee little man. But I gritted my teeth: there’s got to be more to this story than silly old song. Pushing ahead, I began asking questions.

Like, why did our author, Luke, want us to know that Zacchaeus was short? Is it necessary to know he had to climb a tree to see Jesus?

Well, the crowd wouldn’t let him through. He was too short to see over everyone and the crowd was not helpful. I’m not re-visiting the crowd theme (see yesterday’s article for that) but it does continue in this story.

However, Luke also listed Zacchaeus’ other shortcomings as well: he was a tax collector, not popular with the crowd, rich and a sinner to boot.

Zacchaeus, like the blind beggar in the story immediately before this one in Luke, passionately sought out Jesus. He climbed a tree to see the passing Jesus. He didn’t ask anything of Jesus but wanted to see him. Both Zacchaeus and the blind beggar (from yesterday’s article) sought a connection with Jesus – even it was simply a glimpse.

When two adjoining stories share similar points, we can know those are some of the things to learn from the stories. Zacchaeus and the blind beggar were imperfect men with a shameful past, definitely not worthy of Jesus’ time according to the religious crowd around them. Jesus didn’t agree.

Jesus invited himself to Zacchaeus’ home, heard Zacchaeus’ plan to restore what he had taken from others, and declared, “Today salvation has come to this house. (Luke 19:9)

Zacchaeus, like many others, could have thought his shortcomings would keep him away from Jesus. (Yes, I think Luke was making a pun by being sure we knew he was height-challenged.) But Zacchaeus overcame. He only wanted to see Jesus and found himself embraced by the compassion of the Son of Man.

Jesus’ ministry was not to seek out the religiously pious or the zealous nationalists…

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost.

Luke 19:10

There's sight and there's sight

The blind beggar sat in the shadow of riches, trying to grab the falling crumbs from the pious pilgrims. Jericho, where he had set up shop, was the rendezvous for Jews on their way to Jerusalem for Passover. They had bypassed the detested Samaria, going the long way round to avoid that hated soil and people.

Sitting at the side of the road, he heard a commotion and was told that Jesus the Nazarene was walking by. He wasted no time. At the top of his lungs, he called out for mercy from Jesus, son of David. He knew who Jesus was. He didn’t identify him as the Nazarene, but as the son of David. Did he also tie that title to an understanding of Jesus as Messiah?

The crowd didn’t. The people sternly ordered his silence. The beggar was not swayed. After the second call, he had Jesus’ attention. I find it interesting that Jesus did not assume what the beggar wanted. He asked. While the beggar had asked for mercy twice, now he asks for sight.

His word choice is interesting. He asked for anablepo. That can mean either to recover sight or to look up. Jesus gave him anablepo and informed him that his faith had saved him. Not only were his eyes healed, but the beggar had spiritual vision as well.

His next choice: he followed Jesus, praising God. He understood his healing had come from God and, interestingly enough, even the cynical crowd now praised God as well.

Context is always vital. The beggar was surrounded by a crowd that had religious formulas. They were on their way to the Passover in Jerusalem, only slightly inconvenienced by their shunning of the Samaritans. Filled with righteous hatred and religious narrowness, they tried to keep the beggar away from Jesus, even though they did not acknowledge Jesus’ heritage.

The beggar had a choice: follow the crowd or his own faith. He didn’t hesitate. The crowd was doing little for him, while he had hope that Jesus offered sight. He had more perception (dare I say sight?) than the crowd. And he wanted to see - not just physically but spiritually as well.

We may feel the same choice. Our crowd may even be religious, shouting down our heart’s desire. Can we, like the beggar, keep shouting? Are we desperate to have our sight renewed? Can we keep our focus?

The beggar knew Jesus was the key to his future. He defied the crowd. He wanted to look up and it made all the difference.

Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus, praising God.

Luke 18:43

Like a child

You have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants (Luke 10:21)

Jesus welcomed children. I can visualize the little ones playing at the edge of the crowd, not engaged in Jesus’ sermons, yet responding to his love. Jesus talked to them, pulled them up on his lap, welcomed them.

Jesus’ words in Luke 10:21 don’t mean that only infants will have the word of God revealed to them. It means that Jesus will reveal the Father to those who are like children.

Children are:

• Learners.
• Dependent.
• Reflections of their parents.
• Cherished.

What a fascinating list to compare my heart to. Am I willing to learn? I heard of a Sunday school teacher once who sniffed indignantly to her pastor, “I have 20 years of experience, you know!” And the pastor gently replied, “No, you have 1 year of experience 20 times.”

My heritage is that of pride and independence. It is runs against my nature to admit a mistake or ask for help. Fortunately, that’s my old nature. My new nature is learning to love God's plan.

A child reflects its parent. Isn’t that cool? Do I reflect the image of God? When someone looks at me, do they see a reflection of the King of kings?

And a parent’s future hope is in the children. The children carry on the family heritage.

We understand that a child is cherished. If we’re parents, we have experienced that heart-tugging commitment and love. And ours is a shadow of God’s love.

But Jesus, aware of their inner thoughts, took a little child and put it by his side, and said to them, "Whoever welcomes this child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me; for the least among all of you is the greatest."

(Luke 9:47-48)

Ready for a little childlike thinking?

The mouth of the dragon

Today, I could not pull back the sheets and put on my slippers except for the love and grace of God. An unspeakable tragedy has brushed against our family and we are shaken. A friend, a new Christian, succumbed to old ways of coping.

Those old ways often look comfortable. But, like when we turn over a rock in the garden, the ugliness of the old ways is exposed.

Evil masquerades as light, lust as amusement We step into the mouth of the dragon, believing it to be a fun house.

Never have I seen the warfare as strongly as I see it today. Satan is not a cute little red devil having a good time. We think he looks a little naughty, but that’s part of his charm. We are seduced by his appearance and rationalize any consequences: why can’t we have a little fun? Why is God taking away our freedom and our pleasure? Satan wants to cut our throats and utterly deceive us.

We can’t play church – and tickle our own ears a little bit. Our loved ones are getting picked off by snipers and we’re hiding like ostriches because we don’t want someone to smirk at our faith.

A soldier knows his captain. A warrior knows his leader. We have to know our Leader and we have to show some grit.

Avalon has a song entitled, “I will testify to love.” The chorus challenged me this morning:

For as long as I shall live

I will testify to love

I'll be a witness in the silences when words are not enough

With every breath I take

I will give thanks to God above

For as long as I shall live

I will testify to love

And I’m reminded, too, of the demon-possessed man at Gerasene. After Jesus set him free from a legion of demons, the man wanted to go with Jesus. But Jesus left him behind with these instructions:

"Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you." So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him. Luke 8:39

As warriors, those are our orders as well: declare what God has done. Testify to his miraculous work in your life and in others. Be a witness to his love.

We have been left behind for now to proclaim Jesus. Not to trust good works or nice platitudes or will power but to proclaim Jesus. Today, be like the Gerasene man set free: return to your home and declare how much God has done for you.

And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. (Luke 7:37)

In this story, a notorious prostitute dared to enter the home of a Pharisee to anoint Jesus’ feet and express her gratitude. Jesus found a rich soil with sinners (those who recognized their sins) while the righteous (those who overlooked their sins and thought their actions white-washed any “minor” sins) had little use for Jesus. Luke has established, in preceding chapters, Jesus’ authority and how different people respond to Jesus. The new thread – the refusal of the Pharisees to join the celebration – continues here.

Credit Simon with enough curiosity or sense to invite Jesus to a meal. It would seem he wanted to hear first hand what Jesus was teaching. Or maybe he wanted to guide Jesus onto a “better” path for a rabbi to follow. In any case, he struggled with classic Pharisee separatism.

Pharisees had misunderstood God’s command in their history to be holy. Holiness means set apart for a purpose. God asked the Israelites to separate themselves from the diluting of other people and their religions. The Pharisees took that a step further, to seeing themselves as superior in their separation. They missed the point. The separation was not about being clean but about avoiding further stain. Separation was about fleeing temptation, not about remaining pure. The Pharisees were never pure.

But Simon misinterpeted. He thought the prostitute would stain Jesus. But Jesus, who came to fulfill the law, shows Simon the fullness of the separation pact. Like Nehemiah’s walls protected the people and gave them identity, the separation of the Jews guarded them from temptation and identified them as children of God. But the full intent of the separation was not to maintain purity, for they never had it apart from God. And so Jesus shows how God wanted to bring people in, to nurture them, to draw them close to his presence.

Purity would not come from avoiding evil but by being washed clean. The woman understood that. She knew well her sin. Simon thought he was clean by avoiding her kind of people and her kind of evil. He would only be clean when he trusted Jesus.

The woman understood what Simon had not yet perceived. She was washed clean but Simon remained in the dust.

Time to dance!

"To what, then, can I compare the people of this generation? What are they like? They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other:
"'We played the flute for you,
and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge,
and you did not cry.' (Luke 7:31-32)

Jesus is speaking to a crowd well sprinkled with religious leaders. Pharisees and scribes were starting to taking aim on his head, listening to his teachings and utterly rejecting them as alien to their own traditions. Jesus responds with this fascinating comparison.

Many people gathered in the marketplace in that day. It was a place of activity and security. But can you imagine children sitting in a marketplace? I can see them running, playing games together, laughing, wrestling – but not sitting on the sidelines calling out to each other. They join in the fun!

After that jarring beginning, Jesus adds in a little chant: we played the flute and you didn’t dance. We played a dirge and you didn’t cry.

He’s saying, you did not join in. Immediately before this account, we can read how many people had followed John the Baptist but the Pharisees had not. Many had accepted John’s message to repent but the Pharisees had rejected that message. They held themselves aloof.

Dance here symbolizes joy in living, a freedom to enjoy God’s material gifts and to enjoy the company of all people, sinners included. Jesus is making a strong statement about the religious leaders who refuse to join the dance. They refuse to mourn with the mourners. They are aloof, assuming their separation makes them holy.

Jesus suggests their attitude is as unnatural as children sitting on the sidelines. Why hold back when it’s time to celebrate? The religious leaders refuse to join the celebration, condemning what others were celebrating.

What about today? Are we rejecting where we should rejoice? Are we embracing tradition and our own worldview, like the religious leaders did? We don’t want to be sitting on the sidelines on this one. The flute is playing and it’s time to dance!

Who's worthy?

I am not worthy to have you come (Luke 7:6)

The man was only a servant, but yet beloved by his owner. A serious illness had brought him face to face with death and so his owner acted. But this was no ordinary owner. This man was a Roman military officer, able to issue orders that would be instantly obeyed. He understood authority. And obviously he understood compassion as well, for not only was he concerned for his servant, but when he sent an appeal to Jesus through his Jewish friends, they reported that he was “worthy” to have Jesus come because he loved the Jews and had helped the Jews many times.

The centurion was not so proud, however. He declared that he was not worthy. He understood authority and he recognized Jesus had greater authority than he had. He asked Jesus to do what a man in power was able to do: speak a command and it is done.

Jesus was amazed. “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith." (Luke 7:9). It was the centurion’s faith, not his authority, which earned Jesus’ praise.

Faith in what? Faith in Jesus’ authority. This man could have proudly claimed that his own authority was sufficient. He had position, power, riches (he built a synagogue, after all). But he recognized accurately his own unworthiness and Jesus’ authority.

We sometimes worship our own worthiness and authority. We think that we are worthy to be on Jesus’ team and he should be glad to have us. Or, just as bad, we think we're not worthy because we haven't done enough for Jesus.

But that's all about me, whether I do enough or don't do enough. Can we respond as this Roman officer? “…only speak the word…” (Luke 7:7). Is our faith in the authority of Jesus and the power of his Word? Or is it in my spiritual resume?

Is it lawful?

Then Jesus said to them, "I ask you, is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to destroy it?" After looking around at all of them, he said to him, "Stretch out your hand." He did so, and his hand was restored. But they were filled with fury and discussed with one another what they might do to Jesus. Luke 6:9-11

The man had perhaps been born with a withered right hand. The right hand was the hand of honor. Think about who got to sit at the right hand of a king – or the right hand of God. A king showed favor with his right hand. The right hand symbolized strength and agreement. The man would even have had problems washing and cleansing his hands to fulfill his religious duties- or shaking on a deal.

His had not been a life of ease and Jesus responded. He set up a test as well. He spoke not only to the man but also to the crowd in the synagogue Is it better to do good or harm on the Sabbath? Is it better to save life or destroy it? Then he asked the man, with all the Pharisees and scribes watching, to put out his hand. This withered hand that brought him shame he now had to reveal to the crowd and to Jesus.

Rage was boiling around him. The religious leaders saw the test as well – the challenge to their way of thinking. The religious leaders were intimidating. Where would he look? Who would he follow.

He stretched. He extended his hand and it was healed. He looked at Jesus and his life was saved. He obeyed and good was done.

Where’s your focus? On Jesus or on rules? On life or on tradition? On needs or on institutions?

Jesus said to him, ‘Stretch…’

Find a Way

They were trying to bring him in and lay him before Jesus; but finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the middle of the crowd in front of Jesus. (Luke 5:18-19)

Jesus was teaching to a large group of people crowded around him. Imagine some of the celebrities of our day, with their fans and the curious pressing in around them, and you’ll have an idea of this crammed house. Then four friends come along with their paralyzed man. They were willing to carry him on a stretcher to Jesus because they believed Jesus could make a difference in this man’s life.

We don’t know if they brought him to be healed or to hear Jesus. We know from Luke 5:15 that the news of Jesus’ teaching and healing was spreading. Either way, these men came. And they were unable to get to Jesus because of the throng.

The assembly, we assume, was filled with the curious and the needy and the skeptic as well. They wanted something from Jesus. Jesus was teaching and preaching to this gathering. Because Jesus’ first words to the paralytic were “Friend, your sins are forgiven,” was that the topic of Jesus’ teaching that day? Repentance means turn and go a new direction. Along comes a paralyzed man and the crowd ignores him. Did their application of Jesus’ teachings fail? We know that they saw no need to allow this needy man through to get into Jesus’ presence.

“Finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd…”

Do our needs or desires or traditions or expectations keep others away from Jesus? I’m fascinated by the friends’ response: they found a way. Am I so sure that Jesus makes a difference that I will overcome resistance, searching until I found the way to bring another to Jesus? Will I go on the rooftop to bring another to Jesus? Or does tradition keep me on the ground, pressing against a crowd that will not budge?

Preserve me from being a part of that crowd, unwilling to see the needs of people that Jesus came to meet. And give me to wings to climb to the roof, to do what it takes to bring another to Jesus.