How one disciple paid his taxes.

Sometimes we promise more that our friends want to deliver.

“Of course he’ll buy you supper.”

“Of course we can help you move next Tuesday.”

“Of course he likes t-shirts with funny sayings.”

“Of course he pays the temple tax.”

The temple tax?

Yes. Everyone over 20 in Israel was counted. When they were counted, they paid a tax, a ransom for their lives. This money was used to pay for temple operations.

God told Moses how it worked.

One day a tax collector asked Peter whether Jesus paid this tax. Peter said, “of course.”

Peter never stopped to think about whether Jesus ought to. He never stopped to think, “Wait, he keeps saying that he’s God, why would God have to pay temple tax? That would be like paying to walk in and out of your own home.”

Jesus calls Peter on it. He explains why he shouldn’t have to pay the tax. He tells Peter where he will find a coin to pay the tax for both Peter and Jesus. He sends Peter fishing.

Just because Jesus rescues Peter, however, doesn’t mean that he approves of what Peter did. He may just want to make life simpler for the tax collectors, people he demonstrated care for.

We act like Peter.

Do we say, “Of course God will do that,” without thinking about the fact that God may not want to. There may be consequences we don’t know about. There may be issues we haven’t seen. God may be unwilling to do the thing that seems so obvious to us.

There are times that we need to stop talking and listen. There are times, when asked a question, we must learn to say, “God, what do you think?”

There are times when we shouldn’t depend on coins in fishes’ mouths.

Advent 19: Spectators

A shore can make a great amphitheater.  Not the kind of shore that is sand for a thousand feet, not a beach, but a shore. Kind of rocky, a hill creating a bowl, that kind of shore. And so, with that kind of shore in mind, it is possible to imagine a crowd listening to Jesus as he was standing on the shore, speaking.

But just like with real people, Bible people struggled to hear. They moved in close. People pushed from behind. People slipped in front. And now, Jesus is standing with his heels touching the water.

He could have stepped backwards ON the water, you know. He would do that later. And he could have done it now, except for the truth that for that kind of action you want close friends, people who will understand that it is a rare event, intended to make a point.  With this group, it would be entertainment; they would be mere spectators. They would want the next big event.

Instead, Jesus pulled in an eavesdropper. Peter was working on the shore, perhaps torn between wanting to hear Jesus and being really annoyed at these people tripping over his nets. Jesus climbed into his boat and then called Peter over to take him out on the water.

Sometimes Jesus pulls the most unlikely people into relationship.  Rather than the people seemingly devoted to listening, he calls to people who are otherwise occupied and says, “I just want to have you do what you already know how to do, just to help me out, just for a little while.” As Peter would discover, this “little while” would change his whole future, would lead to his death, would make him be the unlikely leader of the early church.

But for starters, Peter just rowed his boat.

And that was enough to start.

(From Luke 5:1-5)

loving through interruptions.

Jesus is counting down the hours he has with the disciples. He’s facing death. It’s a burden. Though he knows it will turn out okay eventually, he is not looking forward to the process. So he’s covering the important stuff, the ideas that will be on the exam.

Judas leaves the room, Jesus takes a deep breath, and says,

“Okay. Let’s start. This is the end of the beginning. I’m going to leave. Here’s what I want you to do: Love one another. The way that people are going to know that you belong to me, that you are following me, that you have learned anything from me, is by how you take care of each other.”

It’s great teaching. It gives a reason for paying attention (I’m leaving, listen closely).

But Peter wasn’t ready for the command part.

“Where are you going?”

You can’t go, Jesus says.

“But I want to go with you. Why can’t I go? I always go with you. You can’t take a step without me being there. Remember on the water? I was there. Remember the mountain? I was there. Remember identifying who you are? That was me. Getting money out of the mouth of the fish? Me.”

And Jesus says that Peter is going to say he doesn’t know Jesus three times before the next morning.

And then Jesus answers Peter’s question, the one about where he is going.

It’s funny, isn’t it? Jesus rewards Peter’s disruptive classroom behavior. Jesus should have said, “Peter, you aren’t listening to me. Why don’t you go sit in the corner. Now class, let’s talk about this the important thing, loving one another.”

Instead, Jesus showed his love for Peter.

1. He warned him about the upcoming failure.

2. He kept talking to Peter.

That’s what love looks like.

Pride in the name of respect

Peter is the only one who responds when Jesus washes feet.

Maybe no one noticed it was Jesus. His point wasn’t to call attention to himself, after all, but to call attention to the hearts of the disciples, to the opportunity to serve each other that is always present. So it could be that he was almost invisible, with the cloak of invisibility which accompanies people we think we are better than.

For whatever reason, Peter is the voice. And Peter argues that he doesn’t want Jesus to wash his feet.  Jesus explains the necessity. Peter then wants not just his feet washed but his head and hands as well.

Here’s what I just realized.

Peter wants to tell Jesus what to do.

Peter wants to be God.

See, two posts back I talked about Jesus doing only what he was told to do. For Jesus, the voice providing direction was, by definition, the Father. So when Peter decides to tell Jesus what to do and how to do it, he is presuming to be God.

Peter would never see it that way. He would have argued that he was preserving the appropriate hierarchy, that the teacher would never wash the feet of the student. To accept such behavior would be too disruptive of, well, of everything. It just wouldn’t be right. Peter might have to change how he thought of everything.

And so, in the name of humility, Peter demonstrates great pride.

I would guess that among the other eleven (for Judas was still in the room (consider that for a moment–Jesus washed Judas’ feet)), there was similar consternation, similar pride.

I would guess that among other followers millenia later, such consternation still lingers.

“No, Jesus, you don’t have to do that for me.”

Yes, he says, I do.

growing isn’t an option for followers

Simon Johnson, a devotional writer, talks about a spiritual growth plan: “Do all you can to add to your life these things: to your faith add goodness; to your goodness add knowledge” and then goes on through self-control, patience, devotion to God, kindness toward your brothers and sisters, and love. We think, “That is a good outline for growth.”

But then I hear things like this:

“I’ll never have that kind of faith.”

“Every time I try to do better, I screw up.”

“Every time she says that, I lose it.”

“I guess I’m just the lost sheep”

What if we actually could grow the way Johnson invites us to? What if we aren’t our failures?

Switch is a book that talks about how to bring about change when change is difficult. (More on Switch here.) As I think about the tension between what Johnson says and what people around me say, my mind keeps coming back to a Switch concept, fixed and growth mindsets. A fixed mindset says, “I am what I am.” A growth mindset says, “I can change, even in fundamental ways.”

Think, for example, about the disciple Peter. As we look at Johnson’s list, Peter lacked self-control, patience, and devotion to God, at least. He probably failed at a couple others as well. A fixed mindset would say, “Poor Peter. What a reject!” A growth mindset would say, “Peter can change. In fact, maybe Peter could even become the kind of person Simon Johnson was describing.”

In fact, Peter was Simon Johnson. Later in his life he wrote two letters full of process words, growth words. He doesn’t assume that his readers have arrived anywhere, nor are they stuck anywhere. He knows that Jesus is gracious even toward friends who betray him, forgiving, allowing to grow.

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Simon Johnson’s words are in 2 Peter 1