Posts Tagged ‘obedience’

Not sure what to do

January 18, 2010

I’m trying to figure out what to do about Haiti.

I know. It sounds dumb. Like it’s up to me to figure out massive physical damage, horrible family destruction, ruined infrastructure. Other people are doing lots of things, from texting donations to holding prayer services. The denomination I’m connected to is looking long-term, planning to help people in Haiti help other Haitians.

At this point, I’m still trying to figure out what to do.

Part of the problem is that I don’t want to do the wrong thing. I don’t want to give in a way that is wasted. I don’t want to look at the long-term and not help people have the water that they need to get from now to then.

Part of the problem is that I know that the problems now are about logistics and political structures and how many planes can land on the runway. I can’t do anything about those issues. The decisions that resulted in this airport were made long ago.

And part of the problem, for me, is that as soon as I open my mouth, and heart, to think about the spiritual side of the situation, I will walk into complicated conversations.

  • Is this God’s judgment for some deal with the devil?
  • How can God allow disasters like this that kill people? I mean, in wars you can blame “man’s inhumanity to man.” But this? This is God, isn’t it?
  • Why do things like this happen to poor countries and to poor people in those countries?

I’m pretty sure I need to figure out how to do something. In Proverbs 17:5 we read:

He who mocks the poor shows contempt for their Maker;
whoever gloats over disaster will not go unpunished.

I need to help. I dare not say, “see what happens?”

My friend Cheryl Smith writes about one organization that was helping ahead of time. Read Positioning World Help for Haiti.

I talked about the idea of doing something in Something, a post about Matthew 25.

especially not after them

October 7, 2009

Is it better to say “no” and then do what you are asked or is it better to say “yes” and then not get around to it?

That’s the heart of a “two brothers” story that Jesus tells. Their dad asks them to work in the vineyard. One argues, one agrees. One goes, one doesn’t.

I love this parable. I always have. I love how Jesus understands that people often think change their minds after they have time to think. I love how Jesus understands that people often say “yes” for all the wrong reasons.

There many place to go with this parable, but we  may miss where Jesus went.

The first brother represents tax collectors and prostitutes. More accurately, the tax collectors and prostitutes that have been talking to Jesus and that Jesus has been talking with for the past three years. The second brother represents religious leaders, those who have been arguing with Jesus for the past three years, those who are facing him at this moment.

Often, Jesus says, people will hear what God says and will reject it, will pursue their own way of living. Eventually, however,  many will change their minds and hearts. Often, Jesus says, other people will hear what God says and will accept it, but will then pursue their own way of living. This group will not have as much fun and as much pain, nor will they know the delight of finally obeying.

That part’s pretty obvious. Here’s the hard part.

“Even after you saw tax collectors and prostitutes be forgiven, you didn’t repent,” Jesus says. The religious people were too religious to admit they were as wrong as the irreligious people. Passive disobedience is as bad as active disobedience. “Good Christians” who don’t follow Jesus are worse than forgiven cheaters.

sometimes there is more than we know.

September 28, 2009

Jesus and his followers are headed to Jerusalem. They stop, just outside of a nearby town. Jesus calls two of them over and gives them specific instructions to bring him two donkeys, telling them where to look and what to do if anyone asked questions.

As the guys are leaving, Matthew tells us that this trip to get a donkey was part of a prophecy given to Zechariah, talking about a king and a donkey.

They get back, everything is cool. Jesus and the disciples head for Jerusalem, Jesus riding on the smaller one, the colt.

When we read this, we know the whole story. The two disciples didn’t. They didn’t know about this donkey-snatching until just before Jesus sent them. They had to trust that Jesus knew what he was talking about. Until Matthew wrote his account, they probably didn’t know about the greater prophecy that they were part of.

As they walked to Bethphage, they may have wondered how Jesus knew, why they were going, how the person who owned the donkeys would react, who was going to take them back, whether they would have to leave any money as security, what was going to come next. They may have wondered what everyone wonders when sent on an errand without knowing all the implications.

Most days, I wonder those same things. I wonder why this crisis happened, why I’m being sent to that conversation, why this issue came up now.

I guess wondering is okay. But going is more important. What these two followers discovered, after everything was done, was that they had been part of fulfilling a prophecy made centuries earlier. Just by getting a couple donkeys. Just by doing what Jesus told them to do.

I think it still happens. At least for followers who obey.

helping each other grow.

July 27, 2009

Your brother Dave is a good guy. He really is. So when you see him look twice at the waitress at lunch, you don’t think much about it. Your sister Helen is a wonderful cook. So when she stands in the kitchen after dinner talking with some friends about the neighbor’s peculiar habits, you don’t think much about it. Old uncle Ed has been part of family events since, well  since before you were born. When he starts telling his jokes about those people, you all squirm, but that’s just uncle Ed.

We all know Dave and Helen and Ed. We often are Dave and Helen and Ed. We care about them deeply. We want them to be wonderful growing people. We don’t want to do anything to hurt them.

So we harm them.

All the time.

Every time we let Dave think that admiring that waitress is acceptable, we are harming him. Every time we let Helen rip apart the neighbors, we are harming her. Every time we let uncle Ed slander a race or a nationality or a culture, we are harming him.

How?

Because we are telling each of them that Jesus doesn’t really matter.

Jesus spoke specifically about lust and gossip and hate. And he spoke very specifically about talking to family members about those things. Not to everyone, mind you, but to family members.

For the next few days we will look at what Jesus says in Matthew 18:15-20 about sin and relationship and conversation and restoration. It’s a hard topic. It hurts to talk to other people about sin, theirs and ours.

However, our calling as followers is to follow better, closer, more completely, more freely. Helping each other in this calling is pretty important. It’s worth thinking through.

And so we will. Starting tomorrow.

Clueless disciples

July 8, 2009

Jesus loved to tell stories. Jesus loved to be subtle. Jesus loved to find out if hearts were paying attention.

Sometimes it didn’t exactly work.

—-

Jesus and the disciples were heading to the other side. They kept crossing the lake, moving from crowd to crowd, need to need, person to person. This time, in the process of packing for the trip, no one remembered to grab the bread.

And Jesus says, “”Be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.”

They decided he was talking about forgetting the bread.

I’m not sure why they thought that answer made sense. Maybe there was a brand of special bread: Holysum. It was endorsed by leaders of both spiritual/political parties. In order to follow Jesus, you should boycott this bread.

Jesus stopped them.

“If you are short of bread, you should know by now that I can feed thirteen as easily as 5,000 (20,000 counting families).”

What Jesus wanted them to understand was that who you follow matters more than food. Jesus can provide food, easily, miraculously. But when people drift away from following him to following others, even to following religion, it’s much harder to fix that problem.

What you listen to, what you think about, what you take in, works its way all the way through your life. If you allow the teaching of the religious to work its way through your heart, you will end up creating false tests for Jesus. You will end up being more religious than God.

They finally understood, the disciples did. At least they understood that Jesus was talking about teaching rather than bread. And they offer a lesson.

Don’t be more concerned with supper than with what you watch while you eat: one is bad for the body, the other for the soul.

Get in

June 16, 2009

Peter almost went under.

That’s the highlight of the “walking on water” story, the part that everyone knows, the part that everyone tries to dissect.  It is the amazing part, the idea of a normal guy (slightly obnoxious, but normal), actually taking a few steps on water.

But that’s not where the story starts.  Before there was Peter getting out of the boat, there were a dozen guys getting into the boat. Jesus tells them to get into the boat and go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee.

It’s a boring command, at least compared to being asked to get out of the boat. Anyone can get into the boat, almost anyone can cross a lake. And when you think about what Jesus was making them leave, it gets even more boring.

Jesus had just fed, maybe, 20,000 people with one sack lunch. The disciples had gathered a bunch of leftovers. The crowd had to be excited. The place had to be “the place to be. ” (In fact, one writer said that the people were ready to make Jesus the king.)

And Jesus tells them to get in the boat and go home.

It’s not fair. To have to get in the boat would be routine. It would be pointless. It would be so ordinary and routine.

It would be obedient.

If they hadn’t been in the boat, they wouldn’t have seen Jesus coming walking on the water. They wouldn’t have seen Peter get out, get excited, get wet, and get caught. They wouldn’t have watched the wind just stop when Jesus climbed into the boat. They wouldn’t have been there.

They would have been standing on the shore, wondering what might have happened.

Before we can be called out of the boat, we have to climb in.

more than biology

May 20, 2009

Jesus is teaching.

He gets company.

He keeps teaching.

The company waits.

It seems like a good strategy, to not be interrupted, to be polite to the people you are with. I would probably be more polite if I had that kind of focus on the people with whom I am talking.

I try. I have one clear exception, however.

If family calls, I answer the phone.

Jesus, apparently, didn’t have that rule.

The company wasn’t just company. Mary and his brothers came to visit. Mary and his brothers came to talk with him. Mary and his brothers wanted to speak with him. (The text in Matthew 12 repeats it, too).

Jesus ignores them. He doesn’t go out.

Instead, he redefines what it means to be his sibling, his mother. It doesn’t depend on natural science. It depends on behavioral science.

Jesus says that “whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

It is an interesting statement. On one hand, it ignores Mary and, seemingly, the command to honor parents. On the other hand, we have no idea what they were wanting – but he knew. He knew if this was one of the visits where they thought he was stressed out. He knew if they were wanting something he didn’t want to do. He knew if this was an appeal to come home, to come back to work, to do something other than the will of the Father.

And that is the simple measure for family for Jesus: doing the will of the Father.

It makes sense, I guess. Doing the father’s will shows way more respect than just saying that you are family. The former is honoring. The latter, assuming.

You want to be in the family? Just do what Dad wants.

learning to say yes

May 14, 2009

“Every day, asking God for guidance, say yes to something.”

Often, when we think about disciple, we think about discipline. When we think about discipline we think about scolding. When we think about discipline, we think about pain. When we think about discipline, we think about saying no.

Maybe it’s just me.

I think about cutting back, about not doing, about focusing. I think about the pain of denying myself.

Ironically, being a disciple is as much about saying yes, as it is about saying no.

Paul tells Titus that grace teaches us to live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly. Paul talks about people who are eager to do good. All of that seems to talk about what to do.

Do what is good, say yes to what God would to. Choose to do the right thing, the righteous thing.

It is possible to be so focused on saying “no” well, that we never start to actually do something, to move ahead in right behavior. And it seems a huge burden, sometimes, to be able to be good all the time. But I think that we get good all the time by doing good every time there is a choice and turning that into a pattern.

But it starts with behaving well now. With God’s direction. When you see the opportunity to do good, be eager. With God’s help. When you can extend your influence, do it. With God’s wisdom. When you can serve water,when you can visit and comfort and heal and help, be there. With God’s hands.

Looking at the opportunities, you seem to be making no progress. Looking in the rearview mirror, you have built a reputation.

Pray for me, and I for you.

“Every day, asking God for guidance, say yes to something.”

Titus 2:11-14

learning to say no

May 13, 2009

“Every day, asking God for guidance, say no to something.”

There is a place for saying no. There are things that are good but not best. There are things that are not good at all. Learning to follow Jesus means learning to say no to both kinds of things.

It is hard to say no. And we make it harder by picking what we think that God wants us to say no too, and then making a big deal of telling other people what those things are. “We” have generated long – and different – ists of what people who follow Jesus shouldn’t do. It gets confusing.

In Titus 2:11-14, Paul helps with that discernment a bit. He says that the grace of God that brings salvation teaches us to say no to ungodliness and worldly passions. There is a process of learning as we go. There is an image of being instructed by God about what is “not God.”

“When you do that, it’s not what I would do. When you demean other people, when you demean yourself, remember that I gave myself up for you. When you want take the glory for yourself rather than pointing to me, remember that you didn’t rescue you, I did. When you are ready to give up on someone ever understanding, remember that I don’t give up, not even on you. When you want to indulge yourself, let me show you how to not do that.”

There is an image in this passage of schooling, of teaching, of guiding, of relationship. We do have to say no. There are boundaries to acceptable behavior. But we learn in relationship, not in requirements.

So starting in the relationship, which we’ve described here and here, say no today.

“Every day, asking God for guidance, say no to something.”

New rules

May 6, 2009

The rules were very clear, at least to some people.

If you are in a field and you are hungry and you pick some of the grain and eat it because you are incredibly hungry from living on the move, you are wrong.

Not because if you eat too many oats you’ll get sick like the eight-year-old kid I was in camp with whose name I don’t remember but who ate way too many oats while we were hiking to a cookout and got sick. I mean really sick.

That’s the kind of rule that makes tremendous sense. It protects other 8-year-old boys and their counselors from unnecessary cleanups in the middle of the night. No, this rule said that grabbing some grain just to take the edge off the growling of your stomach counts as full-blown harvesting of grain. And on the Sabbath, harvesting of grain is wrong.

I understand the larger rule. The todo list will never get done. There is a place for rest. There need to be limits. To make, however, grabbing a handul of wheat to chew on a major rule is, it seems, a little over the top.

Which is what Jesus says.

The rule of the Sabbath is, Jesus suggests, a principle. It is better to eat and break the rule than to pass out but be obedient. It is better to look for mercy than to measure the sacrifices. It is better to value people than to build elaborate rule structures that devalue them. It is better to look at what is happening than to blindly apply human rules. It is better to talk with the Maker of the rules than to condemn him.

It is better to be with Jesus in a field on a Sabbath picking grain than anywhere else.