Thursday, April 26, 2012

Because I Said So (thus saith the Lord)



Matt. 12:8

“For the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.”



I love this whole passage (v. 1-14). It is full of paradox. But this one verse sums it up.

Here, He is called Son of Man, not Son of God. As the Son of Man, He came to serve. He came as a servant. His service was to free us. Free us from the bondage of sin. Free us from the debt of sacrifice. 

But what He shows us we are to do - be a servant - does not look very freeing.  It is about balance.  We don't get the freeing result until we have gone through the toil of service first.  (Not as a result of it, but rather just the consequence of direction). In our linear world and line of thinking, before an after, there must be a before.  Doesn't that make sense?  Jesus's humility, as well as our own, is an example of the world we live in now.  The condition from which we need rescue.  (Yes, it is also an example of love, but that is a given.  Looking in from a different angle here).

I think back to the Hebrews in slavery in Egypt.  Moses was a tool God used to set them free from their bondage.  This was an example, a type, of Christ to come.  God showing the world that He would send Someone to free all people.  In Jesus's own life, He showed what was going to be done on Earth.  

Jesus lived in the beginning, not as royalty as He should have, but as a poor workman.  We, as God's children should be living as princes and princesses, but the condition of this world does not have such an existence anymore since the Fall of Man in the Garden.  Jesus came to His people not on a white stallion, but on the foal of a donkey.  He did not bring war and destroy the enemies of the Jews, but accepted the death of a criminal.

None of this makes any sense!  He could, but He doesn't.  He serves, when He could be served.  It doesn't make sense, and yet it is.  We can't understand it, so God gives us the only answer a parent can give to a child not mature enough to grasp.

"Because I said so."  

You've been there, haven't you?  Too tired to explain why this is the way.  God has too.  Jesus is there with the Pharisees.  They were stuck in the before, and quite comfortable to stay there.

"Why aren't you doing it right, Jesus?  Why?  Why?" 

We shake our heads at them, but you know what else doesn't make sense?  We chose our sin over God.

But.  Then.  The example of the end came. Everything changed.  He died, but He did not stay dead.  And for the first time ever, a sacrifice stuck.  It was finally acceptable to God. Jesus was taken to Heaven.  And it was an example of how now, we will have the chance to be taken there too.

In this passage, He is trying to explain who He is and what He is doing, but the Pharisees aren't getting it. They are seeing the here and now. They see the beginning, and never the end. To them, there will never be a change. It must always be as it has been.  But we must see the whole picture.

As the Lord of the Sabbath, Jesus explains that He IS the law. His law is love, and his law is goodness. He requires no sacrifice because He was the sacrifice. He is greater than any law the temple has ever held.  The Pharisees could not see that, could not get past their noses to see beyond, so all He could do was to tell them.  

"It is right, because I said so."

That is paraphrased, of course, but I can't wait to ask Him if He ever indeed spoke those words.


Thursday, April 19, 2012

Rest


Matt. 11:28-30

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”



Ahhh, one of the all-time best verses ever written in my mind's eye. Just reading it gives me peace. If only it were as easy to do as one would think it could be! 

It is a two-step, give-and-take transition.

Step 1: Give
The cares of this world were not meant to make us weary.  It is God's world.  We are His people, the battle is between good and evil.  We take on burdens that never were meant for our shoulders.  We are sheep, not oxen.  But here we are, taking ownership of this world and all its problems.  This would be like the sheep looking out at the field and saying, "Okay, time for me to plow this field."  Not your job, Fluffy.  Not only will the job not be done properly, but it will waste energy that could be better put to use in other ways. Let the One who CAN be the one to do it.  


Step 2: Take 
What are we taking?  His yoke. Rest. Jesus did not come to earth to kick back.  How often is he standing in front of crowds, teaching?  Often, He is feeding them literal food with the Bread of Life or serving physical water with the Living Water.  He came to serve.  And often like Peter refusing his feet be washed, we will not accept His service.  But Jesus reminds Peter that unless he allows this service, he can have no part with Jesus.

It sounds easy. But, as always, we make it difficult. Why do we want so much to hold onto our burdens?  Once again, we think we know better.  I'm sure you have heard how dumb sheep can be.  I bet if you put a yoke on a sheep, it would think it actually could plow the field. And, like a child who refuses to take a nap, we might just be afraid of missing something. That child does not know what is best, and neither do we. We think to ourselves, 'What if ...God really does evaluate us on how much we can carry in His name?'  We just don't trust!  

Don't miss this next part -- learn from me.  How will we know what to do unless we listen?  And listen closely.  Not the multi-tasking listening that Martha was planning to do.  Clean up, serve & feed, listen on the fly. I think this is why He tells us to lay down our burdens first and pick up the easy yoke.  He gave us steps - Stop.  Put down the broom.  Listen. We should have nothing else in our minds between our ears and His words.  Then our minds are free to absorb them all.

Will life be easy?  No, but our burden will be.  Set down the yoke, Fluffy, and give it to Him.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

What the Little Children Know


Matt. 11:25-26

“At that time, Jesus said, 'I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.”



Of course, this verse popped out to me because it mentions children. With my degrees in elementary education, I am always on the look out for ways to teach children.  But this verse is more about what we can learn from them instead.

It isn't really about children, but of those with a child-like heart. Still we must look at children to understand Jesus's words. Children at a very young age will believe whatever you tell them, because they know no better. They do not have worldly ideas built up in their hearts. All they have is trust.

I feel that that being child-like is different from childish, however.  A childish adult can be gullible (among other things, but let's just focus on this one).  The child-like heart of a grown person examines the choices available and chooses the one that makes the most sense.  Children like simplicity, and so does a child-like heart.


God has made His plan simple.  We sinned.  Jesus redeemed.  We believe. God accepts.


“He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.” 1 Peter 2:24

He says it, we believe it.  No questions asked.

But nothing is ever simple, is it?  At least, we make that so. As we grow, we question. Um, do you know any older children like that?  Maybe, like me, you have given birth to a few who apparently think they have taken the fast track to wisdom and understanding.  At a certain point, many truly believe they have surpassed the knowledge of their decrepit old parents whose minds are withering like a worm on the sidewalk. Why, Mom?  Why?  Why do I have to eat that/clean that/wash there?  Sometimes I wonder if they really want an answer or if their goal is to drive me crazy.


Childish adults are similar.  Why does God choose to love me?  Why do I have to obey?  Why would He die for me?

Why do people do this? (Why?  Why?) Why can't we just let it be simple? At some point, we begin to see that we are smarter than we once were. It seems that this knowledge apex is reached in adolescence.  It is like our life is in an enormous glass.  The liquid filling the glass is knowledge.  We are born at the bottom of the glass and begin filling it with the things we know.  And we begin swimming toward the top.  Somewhere as a teen or young adult, we have reached the top of the liquid.  We have conquered it all, and now, of course, being at the top of all our amassed knowledge, we know it all. Turn off the tap, looking below us, it is full. There isn't room for anything more. We begin to close off other ideas because we have evaluated the source as less than ourselves. There is no room for this thinking in the kingdom of heaven.

But something interesting happens, if we allow it.  From the crest of our pool of knowledge, we look up and see there is much more ROOM for more.  Our maturity must cause us to filter what comes in.  Only what is pure can fill our glass.  And no looking around at all the other glasses.  God knows what is best, and will fill us with the simple and the pure.  As His children, we just need to allow it to come and refresh us.

We can't go back to being a child again.  Now, we know too much.  But we can still choose what is best.  We can allow God to teach and fill us.  We can take what He gives us without question.  Simple as that.

The end of this verse is also very cool.  It is God's good pleasure to do this for us.  Let's accept it gratefully.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Sunday is Coming... Hallelujah!




We are taking just a little break right now from our walk through Matthew.  That is not to say the Gospel is irrelevant at this time.  Obviously, nothing is further from the truth.  But I want to keep going in order and not jump around.  And since the message of Easter is ALWAYS relevant, we can touch upon it again as we progress.

Today, I am bringing out a thought that came from a song I like.  It is called Sunday (by Tree63).  Here are some of the lyrics:
Someone’s saying a prayer tonight
For hungry mouths to be filled
Someone kneels in the dark somewhere
And darkness is already crumbling
It’s Friday, but Sunday comes

Sunday – Hallelujah – it’s not so far, it’s not so far away
Sunday – Hallelujah – it’s not so far, it’s not so far away

Broken promises, weary hearts
But one promise remains:
Crucified, he will come again
It’s Friday, but Sunday is coming
It’s Friday, but Sunday is coming


Friday.  Good Friday.  As a kid, it always bothered me that it was called "Good" Friday.  Did Jesus think it was good when he was on the cross?  None of the words ascribed to Him that day were "thank you."  In the garden, He had even asked for the cup to be taken from Him.

What was good about it?  It was progress.  It was going in the right direction, and it was moving.  The darkness was already crumbling. We can't have Sunday, without first having Friday.  We can't have God, until our sin has been destroyed.

Sunday.  We can make it.  We can face the whiny kids, scary deadlines, mean people, lack of funds, anything and everything because of Sunday.  Our Friday does not last forever.  Darkness is already crumbling.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I was terrified of giving birth.  The status quo was fine with me compared to the pain I was certain I would hate. Though, as the pregnancy came to the last month, it was clear that there would be more pain in perpetuating the gestation than getting through it.  Labor and childbirth were not easy.  Can't say I really enjoyed it the first time around.  But do you know how quickly I forgot about that pain after getting to know my baby?  Our second child was born about a year and half later.



Where are we now as a church?  The world comes to us and asks us why there is pain in the world.  Why do children suffer?  Why do hunger, cancer, and hatred steal the lives of the seemingly innocent?  People don't like our answer.  That is why they continue to question.

But just as the Friday of the Fall gave us sin, The Sunday of Jesus's arrival gave us our hope of salvation and resurrection.  Good Friday took our sin and buried it. Easter Sunday resurrected our hope of a perfect life with our Father and our Savior in heaven.  

Since Christ's exodus to our home in this dawn of the age of the Spirit's dwelling, I believe we are even closer to Sunday than ever before.  Our hope can be our expectancy.  Our Sunday is upon us.  

Getting to Friday, getting to the delivery room, getting the crack in the dam only means that salvation is imminent.  The life of a child -- or a child of God -- is around the corner.

Good Friday is the promise of Easter Sunday.  Easter Sunday is the hope of life forever with Him. Praise God.  Hallelujah. It's not so far away.