Get in

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

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

“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

“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

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.