Seeing is Step One (Nehemiah 5:1-8)

Probably many of you on your Facebook feed have occasionally seen click-bait pop up for a website that is called “People of Walmart” or something of that nature. It features pictures of oddly-dressed and unusual people who are most often unsuspectingly photographed. Whereas a number of those pictured may be people sadly evidencing some sort of mental illness, the photos just as frequently are displays of gravely impoverished individuals.

For those who succeed sufficiently well in life, it is so simple as to be an almost natural reaction to look down upon people who are poor and struggling. The immediate suspicion is to assume that the condition is derivative from some measure of irresponsibility or laziness. “Just get a job” is an immediate thought, or, “The money you spent on that ugly tattoo on your neck might have bought a few more groceries for your family.”  Beyond this, some people of faith who have been blessed with abundance may even have, at the minimum, some measure of belief that their own success represents God’s blessing, whereas the deprecations of the poor represent His displeasure with them. lonely-people-in-poverty

But is poverty this simple to define? Is it always the natural outcome of bad life choices? And what is the background source of the lack of skills that led to whatever bad choices were made?

Is it not also a reality that many impoverished people are actually in that condition through a complicated series of misfortunes from which extrication is not immediately obvious? This was true in the situation described by Nehemiah in the passage that was primary to our Week 3 sermon within the #ForOurCity series.

Nehemiah 5:1 – Now the men and their wives raised a great outcry against their fellow Jews. 2 Some were saying, “We and our sons and daughters are numerous; in order for us to eat and stay alive, we must get grain.”

3 Others were saying, “We are mortgaging our fields, our vineyards and our homes to get grain during the famine.”

4 Still others were saying, “We have had to borrow money to pay the king’s tax on our fields and vineyards. 5 Although we are of the same flesh and blood as our fellow Jews and though our children are as good as theirs, yet we have to subject our sons and daughters to slavery. Some of our daughters have already been enslaved, but we are powerless, because our fields and our vineyards belong to others.”

The arduous process of building the wall had taken people away from their regular lives and abilities to make ends meet. The situation was grave. They were borrowing money to pay taxes. Beyond that, some were having to subject their children to slavery. Their debts were becoming inexorable. And those who were being enriched were from their own Jewish flesh and blood – actually disobeying the Old Testament Law in charging interest …

6 When I heard their outcry and these charges, I was very angry. 7 I pondered them in my mind and then accused the nobles and officials. I told them, “You are charging your own people interest!” So I called together a large meeting to deal with them 8 and said: “As far as possible, we have bought back our fellow Jews who were sold to the Gentiles. Now you are selling your own people, only for them to be sold back to us!” They kept quiet, because they could find nothing to say.

They had nothing to say. Why?  What was the nobles’ (the wealthy land owners class) disposition on this? Perhaps they had some of the same viewpoints we might have today toward impoverished people – that God has blessed our greater faithfulness … that they aren’t making wise choices … that their responsibility quotient in not as refined as our own, etc.

I would add to this that the nobles likely did not “see” the poor. Oh yes – they saw them with their eyes, but not with their hearts. Perhaps we too need to look beyond mere “seeing” that can be easily sloughed off and forgotten, to rather “deeply seeing” with hearts of compassion built upon a profound sense of God’s blessing.

Remember the story in Luke chapter 7 of Jesus dining in the home of Simon the Pharisee? A woman with a troubled history had come into the home and was making quite a scene of weeping, anointing the feet of Jesus and wiping them with her hair. EVERYONE in the room could see it (and smell it and hear it), though none chose to speak to it. And finally Jesus asks Simon, “Do you see this woman?”  Of course he could see her; you couldn’t NOT see her. But he was asking if he could SEE her.one-eye

Do you SEE the poor? Does your heart SEE the poor and needy in our community? There is quite a lot to see … I mean, to SEE. And before we can act upon it we have to do more than just see it, but to SEE it.  SEEING is step one.


Poverty Statistics

For those of you who heard the sermon yesterday either at Tri-State Fellowship or in one of the other 23 partnering churches, here in print are some of the statistics shared about the level of poverty in Hagerstown and Washington County …

  • Nearly 13% of Washington County’s residents live in poverty, according to a recent report from the Maryland Alliance for the Poor.
  • Washington County’s poverty rate was the eighth highest in Maryland for 2014, the report said. The poverty line was defined as annual income of $23,850 for a family of four.
  • [According to Lisa Klingenmaier, co-chairwoman of The Maryland Alliance for the Poor], “The cost of living is going up, but wages are not.”… She noted that this year’s report shows a worker in Washington County needs to earn $16.48 per hour to afford the fair market rent and utilities for a two-bedroom apartment without spending more than 30 percent of his income. Two years before, the wage required was $15.98.
  • Median income — Washington County ranked 17th in Maryland with a median annual income of $56,477. The median income is not an average; it means the same number of households bring in more than or less than that amount. Washington County also ranked 17th in the last report, but the median income has risen by $2,238 since then.
  • Child poverty rate — the county ranked eighth in the number of children living in poverty, 19.7 percent, the group found. This number was slightly better than the last report in which the county ranked seventh with 19.9 percent of its children living in poverty.
  • Senior poverty rate — Washington County ranked seventh with 7.8 percent of seniors living below the poverty line, defined as having an annual income of $11,670 or lower for an individual. This number has not changed in the past two years.
  • Unemployment — Washington County had the ninth highest unemployment rate in the state with an average rate of 6.5 percent in 2014. That’s an improvement from the last report, when the county ranked fifth highest with an average unemployment rate of 7.9 percent.
  • Food Supplement Program — Washington County had the seventh highest number of people participating in the Food Supplement Program with 17 percent of the population involved. The average benefit was $126.83 per person, per month. This number was nearly unchanged.
  • Free and reduced-price meals — 50.1 percent of the children in Washington County Public Schools were eligible for the program during the 2014-15 school year, the eighth-highest percentage in Maryland. This number rose from the last report, when Washington County ranked 10th with 47.77 percent eligible.
  • African American poverty — the county ranked fifth in number of African Americans living below the poverty line, 30.7 percent.
  • Latino poverty — at 22.2 percent, Washington County ranked 10th in the number of Hispanic or Latino Marylanders living below the poverty line.
  • Female-headed households — 36.7 percent of female-headed households were below the poverty line, ranking Washington County seventh in the state.
  • Deep poverty — nearly half (45.4 percent) of Washington County residents living in poverty had yearly incomes below 50 percent of the poverty line — or $5,835 for individuals — in 2014, ranking the county 17th in the state for deep poverty.
  • Income spent for childcare — Families with children paid an average of 19.9 percent of their income on childcare, the 12th highest in the state.
  • “Klingenmaier said poverty trends in Washington County actually mirror the state. Maryland’s deep poverty rate, which is 48.3 percent of those living below the poverty line, is the highest in the country.”

What do we do with the “boring” parts of the Bible? (Nehemiah 3:13-32)

“All Scripture is breathed out by God,” Paul wrote to Timothy, “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16).

If you grew up in church, you may have been asked at some point to commit this verse to memory.  You might even have a coffee mug or a t-shirt or a wristband with the verse printed on it.

But let’s be real for a second.  God inspired every word in the Bible, yet he communicated his truth through a collection of human authors, whose diverse writings spanned diverse cultures over a period of over 1500 years.  Naturally, we might find some parts of the Bible far more beautiful or far more useful than others.  But Paul says that all Scripture is profitable.  It’s easy to find “profit” in the beauty of the psalms or the clarity of Paul’s letters, but what do we do with the “boring” parts?

Today’s reading comes from Nehemiah 3.  And yes, it’s one of those “boring” parts.  You have my permission to skim it—but afterwards let’s talk about why we should rejoice that such passages are every bit as useful and significant as any other passage in the Bible:

13 Hanun and the inhabitants of Zanoah repaired the Valley Gate. They rebuilt it and set its doors, its bolts, and its bars, and repaired a thousand cubits of the wall, as far as the Dung Gate.

14 Malchijah the son of Rechab, ruler of the district of Beth-haccherem, repaired the Dung Gate. He rebuilt it and set its doors, its bolts, and its bars.

15 And Shallum the son of Col-hozeh, ruler of the district of Mizpah, repaired the Fountain Gate. He rebuilt it and covered it and set its doors, its bolts, and its bars. And he built the wall of the Pool of Shelah of the king’s garden, as far as the stairs that go down from the city of David.16 After him Nehemiah the son of Azbuk, ruler of half the district of Beth-zur, repaired to a point opposite the tombs of David, as far as the artificial pool, and as far as the house of the mighty men. 17 After him the Levites repaired: Rehum the son of Bani. Next to him Hashabiah, ruler of half the district of Keilah, repaired for his district. 18 After him their brothers repaired: Bavvai the son of Henadad, ruler of half the district of Keilah. 19 Next to him Ezer the son of Jeshua, ruler of Mizpah, repaired another section opposite the ascent to the armory at the buttress. 20 After him Baruch the son of Zabbai repaired another section from the buttress to the door of the house of Eliashib the high priest. 21 After him Meremoth the son of Uriah, son of Hakkoz repaired another section from the door of the house of Eliashib to the end of the house of Eliashib. 22 After him the priests, the men of the surrounding area, repaired. 23 After them Benjamin and Hasshub repaired opposite their house. After them Azariah the son of Maaseiah, son of Ananiah repaired beside his own house. 24 After him Binnui the son of Henadad repaired another section, from the house of Azariah to the buttress and to the corner. 25 Palal the son of Uzai repaired opposite the buttress and the tower projecting from the upper house of the king at the court of the guard. After him Pedaiah the son of Parosh 26 and the temple servants living on Ophel repaired to a point opposite the Water Gate on the east and the projecting tower. 27 After him the Tekoites repaired another section opposite the great projecting tower as far as the wall of Ophel.

28 Above the Horse Gate the priests repaired, each one opposite his own house. 29 After them Zadok the son of Immer repaired opposite his own house. After him Shemaiah the son of Shecaniah, the keeper of the East Gate, repaired. 30 After him Hananiah the son of Shelemiah and Hanun the sixth son of Zalaph repaired another section. After him Meshullam the son of Berechiah repaired opposite his chamber. 31 After him Malchijah, one of the goldsmiths, repaired as far as the house of the temple servants and of the merchants, opposite the Muster Gate, and to the upper chamber of the corner. 32 And between the upper chamber of the corner and the Sheep Gate the goldsmiths and the merchants repaired. (Nehemiah 3:13-32)

Why are passages like these “useful?”  Let’s examine four reasons:

  • They anchor us to history. These are real people, with real names.  The Bible is more than a history book, but it is not   We can take comfort in knowing that for the ancient people, this was a part of recording actual history.  And if God has been active in his people’s past, surely he can be active in his people’s present—and future.
  • They anchor us to community. Because these are real people, we can rejoice with the “great cloud of witnesses” that experienced God’s blessings and saw him at work in their midst.  We can find confidence knowing that our faith is not merely ours, but we are brought into a family far larger than we might have otherwise realized.
  • They anchor us to Jesus. Every passage in the Bible points us to Jesus; the only question is “how.”  Where do we see Jesus in today’s text?  Simple, really.  God used Nehemiah to strengthen God’s community, Israel.  In the New Testament, God used Jesus to bring God’s people into Christian community—the body of Christ.
  • They anchor us to God’s bigger story. Finally, there is a larger story into which every piece of Scripture fits into.  God is ferociously committed to establishing his kingdom on earth.  Here, we catch a glimpse—maybe even a foretaste—of that kingdom.  Here the people were dedicated toward the building of God’s community.  We, too, might find life in joyful anticipation of the day that God’s eternal city descends from heaven “like a bride adorned for her husband” (Revelation 21:2).

So, yes, the Bible is useful, it is profitable, it is beautiful.  Even the “boring” parts.

Are you a person of the Word?  Does God’s Word shape your heart?  Your life?  Your story?  If you’ve been reading our devotionals page, we’re thankful to be a part of your spiritual journey.  But if this is your first encounter with us, or if you’ve simply been lax in your commitment to the Word in general, then we’d love for you to prayerfully consider how you might invest yourself in God’s Word, and make his truth a greater part of your walk.

“You didn’t build that” (Nehemiah 3:1-12)

No one gets anywhere alone.  There’s simply no such thing as the “self-made man.”

Literally everything we create is dependent on those who came before us.  Think about the technology in front of you right now.  You’re reading this on a device you didn’t create, relying on a data transmitted to you wirelessly across a world-wide information network.  Even the English language itself is an invention that has been shaped by culture and time.

In short, nothing you see before you is something you can take credit for—yet everything you see before you is something you can take joy in.

MICHAELANGELO, CEO

As human beings, we are created in the image of a Creator.  Creativity is in us deep down, all the way to our souls.  But because God exists as an eternal network of persons (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit), we are equally made for community.

Creativity and community must go together.  You can’t have one without the other.

Five hundred-odd years ago Michelangelo completed his work on the Sistine Chapel.  It’s a masterpiece.  One can hardly imagine the creation of Adam without also picturing the famous scene splashed across the ceiling.

But according to  William Wallace, professor of art at Washington University, we should think of Michelangelo less as a lonely artist and more of a CEO:

“The romantic myth that Michelangelo worked by himself fits our notion of the lonely, self-sacrificing genius — conditions that presumably are necessary for creating art. Actually, he was never alone. He lived with two male assistants and always had a female housekeeper. Thirteen people helped him paint the Sistine ceiling; about 20 helped carve the marble tombs in the Medici Chapel in Florence, with its allegories of Day and Night, Dawn and Dusk. And to build the Laurentian Library in Florence, he supervised a crew of at least 200.”[1]

Wallace envisions Michelangelo as something of a thought-leader, helping the vision come to life through the efforts of the community:

“For these projects, he personally selected a work force of friends, associates and trained professionals. He imposed a flexible organization that permitted talented individuals to find a place on one or more teams. He encouraged creative competition and initiative in design and execution. He reprogrammed the hacker elite (marble carvers) so they could realize his vision. A trouble-shooter, he made alterations and solved problems as they arose. He darted in and out of the assembly line daily, and worked almost every Saturday and most holidays. His employees benefited from flexible leave, good pay and job security — except when the deaths of his papal patrons interrupted the cash flow.”[2]

No one gets anywhere alone.  We’re just not built that way.

NEHEMIAH, CEO

Nehemiah was very much the same way.  His God-given task was to build the wall, but it wasn’t a project he could complete on his own.

In Nehemiah 3, we see that he calls a whole team of people together to help achieve this task:

Then Eliashib the high priest rose up with his brothers the priests, and they built the Sheep Gate. They consecrated it and set its doors. They consecrated it as far as the Tower of the Hundred, as far as the Tower of Hananel. 2 And next to him the men of Jericho built. And next to them Zaccur the son of Imri built.

3 The sons of Hassenaah built the Fish Gate. They laid its beams and set its doors, its bolts, and its bars. 4 And next to them Meremoth the son of Uriah, son of Hakkoz repaired. And next to them Meshullam the son of Berechiah, son of Meshezabel repaired. And next to them Zadok the son of Baana repaired. 5 And next to them the Tekoites repaired, but their nobles would not stoop to serve their Lord. (Nehemiah 3:1-5)

We might stop and wonder how it was that Nehemiah could expect to build these walls in the first place.  Surely the task must have seemed unbearably daunting.

We know from history—and even archeology—a few things about the wall that might be helpful:

  • Jerusalem was smaller than generally accepted—perhaps between 1.6—2.5 miles in circumference.
  • Only the eastern wall was built from the foundation; Nehemiah used the existing ruins to build the walls at the north, south, and west. This makes the project more of a re-modeling effort than a full-scale construction project.
  • The people were motivated—by God’s purpose as well as the threat of attackers. We have little difficulty imagining that these workers could find it in themselves to work on the wall.

Surely with these things in mind the task must have seemed more feasible, though still a task to place in God’s sovereign hands.

6 Joiada the son of Paseah and Meshullam the son of Besodeiah repaired the Gate of Yeshanah. They laid its beams and set its doors, its bolts, and its bars. 7 And next to them repaired Melatiah the Gibeonite and Jadon the Meronothite, the men of Gibeon and of Mizpah, the seat of the governor of the province Beyond the River. 8 Next to them Uzziel the son of Harhaiah, goldsmiths, repaired. Next to him Hananiah, one of the perfumers, repaired, and they restored Jerusalem as far as the Broad Wall. 9 Next to them Rephaiah the son of Hur, ruler of half the district of Jerusalem, repaired. 10 Next to them Jedaiah the son of Harumaph repaired opposite his house. And next to him Hattush the son of Hashabneiah repaired. 11 Malchijah the son of Harim and Hasshub the son of Pahath-moab repaired another section and the Tower of the Ovens. 12 Next to him Shallum the son of Hallohesh, ruler of half the district of Jerusalem, repaired, he and his daughters. (Nehemiah 3:6-12)

YOU DIDN’T BUILD THAT

Not long ago President Obama ruffled feathers by telling entrepreneurs and businessmen that “you didn’t build that.”  Many took this as a slight against the sweat equity they had sunk into their life’s work, or a possible endorsement of the necessity of dependence on big government.

These concerns aren’t without warrant.  I agree that we should never dismiss the work that we put into our accomplishments, nor should we allow our dependence on one another to excuse unrestrained governmental regulation.  But let us never assume that we built it all ourselves.  I appreciate David Brooks’ more balanced assessment of the situation.  When a businessman wrote into the New York Times wrestling with how he should view himself in light of his accomplishments, Brooks responded by saying that “as an ambitious executive, it’s important that you believe that you will deserve credit for everything you achieve. As a human being, it’s important for you to know that’s nonsense.”[3]

If we are to be for our city, we may honor what God has done through us by taking joy in what we build and what we accomplish.  But we must never, ever assume that we have done it all ourselves.  This is the difference between gratitude and entitlement, and it is likewise the way in which God’s image-bearers reflect both creativity and community.

 

[1] William B. Wallace, “Michaelangelo, CEO,” The New York Times, April 16, 1994.

[2] Ibid.

[3] David Brooks, “The Credit Illusion,” The New York Times, August 2, 2012.

And who is my neighbor? (Luke 10:25-37)

We’re greatful for another great post from Curt Snyder, on staff at Lifehouse:

Growing up in a very small town where my grandparents and parents owned and operated a small general merchandise store, I had the pleasure of basically knowing most everyone in our community. They shopped there, socialized there and often times just hung out there. For the most part everyone knew everyone and with that looked out and cared for each other in the process. Genuine relationships and community were the norm.

However, as the world expanded and localized community began to shift to more globalized community, this idea of true neighbors and care began to erode and disappear. Now with technology and communication as it is, what once was nearly impossible has become the new normal and it has blurred the lines of “who is my neighbor”. But that question isn’t a new phenomenon. Jesus himself was asked this question by a religious leader of his day.

25 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?” 27 He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” 28 “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.” 29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”   – Luke 10:25-29

But apparently that answer wasn’t enough so the leader, in an effort to justify his self-centered thinking, asked “and who is my neighbor.”

30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ 36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” 37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”   – LUKE 10:25-37

As Jesus unfolded his answer to the man’s question he spoke right to the issue; and in his parable he took those who should have been the first to respond to the need and have the greatest understanding of who our neighbor is and showed them as the most indifferent. Then he took the most unlikely character and demonstrated what true care and compassion looked like.

Here’s the catch! We would love to think that we more reflect the attitude and actions of the Samaritan, but the harsh reality is that, more times than not, we are closer to the two religious leaders and their actions toward the man who was in crisis.  We actually get as far away from the problem as we possibly can rather than getting involved in the need at hand.

You see, because of this thing called sin in each of our lives the tendency is to separate ourselves, to become insulated from the events around us and to look out for me first; but that is counter to what Jesus said we should be about. He said first we love God with everything in us and then we are to love people; and to be honest, you can’t truly love God with everything if you don’t love people.

Everyday you and I will encounter people who are in need. It may not be as critical as the man in Jesus’ story but in their life it is a crisis. Will we truly become the hands and feet of God by stepping into people’s lives and demonstrating the love of God to those who are far away from him? What steps can you take today to become that demonstration of God’s love?

Can you make this your prayer today?  “God help me to see the needs of people around me. Would you let me see with your eyes, hear with your ears and feel with your heart so that I can see the need in peoples’ lives?  And would you give me the courage to step into the situations I encounter and be a real demonstration of your love to others.  Amen.”

The Cross and the Call Away from “Fairness” (Matthew 5:38-43)

“Individualism lies at the very core of American culture,” writes Robert Bellah in his influential work, Habits of the Heart. 

“Our highest and noblest aspirations, not only for ourselves, but for those we care about, for our society and world, are closely linked to our individualism.  Yet…some of our deepest problems both as individuals and as a society are also closely linked to our individualism.”[1]

In a nation of individuals, differences abound.  That’s actually a good thing: God created humans to each express their God-given design in unique and diverse ways.  The gospel isn’t opposed to individuality; it’s opposed to individualism. The difference?  Individuality celebrates our uniqueness; individualism denies man’s common purpose.

Thus, differences abound, and for lack of common purpose difference only breeds distance, and distance breeds distrust.

The problem of individualism is nothing new.  In fact, in Eden’s paradise man and woman chose to reject God’s designs to seek their own fulfillment—and we’ve been wiping the juice from our chin ever since.

How do we reverse this?

The temptation is to reclaim justice through a relentless devotion to fairness. Fairness is the currency of individualism, for through fairness do we hope to see ourselves validated and transgressors punished.

In fact, fairness is so central to our understanding of the world that we become incensed at the presence of a lack of fairness.  Even our conversations about racial reconciliation are replete with statements about fairness and equality.

The Christian ethic isn’t built upon fairness, but upon virtue.  The cross shatters any expectation I have about fairness, for through the cross the righteous becomes sin so that sinners become righteous.  God’s justice is met, yet we stand aghast at how this confronts any notion—or any demand—we might have of “fairness.”

So when Jesus asks that we “take up the cross” and follow him, we have to realize that Jesus’ ethics have little to do with self-validation, and everything to do with self-sacrifice.

THE GOSPEL AND FAIRNESS

Now understand, the ancient people lived by a principle we know as lex talonis—the famous “eye for an eye” system of punishment (Exodus 21:24) designed to maintain social stability.  But Jesus challenges his readers that now, in the shadow of the cross, this former way of thinking proves itself inadequate:

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ 39 But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. 40 And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. 41 And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. 42 Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you. (Matthew 5:38-42)

In the first-century world, Jews were merely tolerated by the Romans.  Therefore Roman soldiers were known to make unfriendly demands of the Jews.  We might imagine that many of the ancient people expected their Savior to call for a political revolution.  Jesus’ revolution would start with the human heart.

If we only had this passage to work with, we might assume that Jesus is calling his followers to serve as mere doormats.  Not so.  We must read this passage in light of the gospel.  The gospel says that despite my in-born brokenness, God revealed his eternal significance by rescuing me through the blood of the cross.  That means my worth can never be measured by what I do—positively or negatively—because nothing I do can be so good as to render the cross unnecessary, and nothing I do can be so bad as to render the cross insufficient.  This also means that no one is beyond the reach of God’s grace.  Therefore to follow Jesus is to follow the way of the cross, to extend love to the world around us…even when it’s not fair.  Fairness appeals to human performance; God’s love appeals to Jesus’ performance.

COMMON GRACE

Jesus goes on to talk about the way we engage those who seem different from us:

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. 46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48 You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matthew 5:43-48)

It’s tempting to divide the world into “liberal” and “conservative,” “democrat” and “republican,” “black” and “white”—all variations of the divide between “us” and “them.”

Jesus says that such divisions are impossible in light of God’s grace—and God’s grace is shown to all people.  Historically this has been called “common grace.”  Common grace isn’t about salvation, but about God’s kindness and compassion on his creation.  The ancient teachers used to see even the rain (a necessity when your whole economy was based on the growth of your crops) as a sign of God’s goodness.

Jesus therefore calls each of us to mirror that same goodness in love for our neighbors.

Are you willing to show love to your neighbors?  Even those who look, think, or act differently than you?  Your life, your love, your example may be the only gospel your neighbors ever hear.  Does your life story rhyme with that of Jesus?  Or are you too busy worrying about what’s fair?

[1] Robert Bellah, Habits of the Heart, p. 142.

Counting the Cost (Nehemiah 2:11-20)

We would like to introduce you to Curt Snyder.  Curt is pastor of discipleship and outreach at Lifehouse Church, and will be sharing some thoughts on the book of Nehemiah throughout our series:

“In every battle there comes a time when both sides consider themselves beaten, then he who continues the attack wins.” – General Ulysses S. Grant

Ulysses Grant, the 18th President of the United States, is probably best known as the commanding General that accepted the surrender of Robert E. Lee and the Confederate Army at the end of the Civil War. Some have praised him for pushing until the union army caused the confederate army to surrender, but others have vilified him for his willingness to send so many men into battle and causing their death by his relentless pursuit of victory on the battlefield. Regardless of how you may feel about this, the reality is Grant understood the cost of victory and was willing to take the steps necessary to see that become a reality even if it meant continuing when others would have quit and sending men into harms way.

Nehemiah had a desire to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. He had King Artaxerxes’ approval and he had arrived in the city to begin the process, but he didn’t have the backing of the city officials who were already there.  As a matter of fact he hadn’t even shared with them the plan he had. So, he made a private assessment of the disrepair, evaluated what it would take and then went to the officials to get their support. He counted the cost, gave the officials the information they needed and then gained their support to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem.

I went to Jerusalem, and after staying there three days 12 I set out during the night with a few others. I had not told anyone what my God had put in my heart to do for Jerusalem. There were no mounts with me except the one I was riding on. 13 By night I went out through the Valley Gate toward the Jackal Well and the Dung Gate, examining the walls of Jerusalem, which had been broken down, and its gates, which had been destroyed by fire. 14 Then I moved on toward the Fountain Gate and the King’s Pool, but there was not enough room for my mount to get through; 15 so I went up the valley by night, examining the wall. Finally, I turned back and reentered through the Valley Gate. 16 The officials did not know where I had gone or what I was doing, because as yet I had said nothing to the Jews or the priests or nobles or officials or any others who would be doing the work. Then I said to them, “You see the trouble we are in: Jerusalem lies in ruins, and its gates have been burned with fire. Come, let us rebuild the wall of Jerusalem, and we will no longer be in disgrace.” 18 I also told them about the gracious hand of my God on me and what the king had said to me. They replied, “Let us start rebuilding.” So they began this good work.

Nehemiah knew the destruction. He had assessed the situation and drawn a conclusion as to what it would take to rebuild the wall but he couldn’t do it by himself. He needed the city officials on his side. He got their support, but it wasn’t that simple. He also ran into opposition.

But when Sanballat the Horonite, Tobiah the Ammonite official and Geshem the Arab heard about it, they mocked and ridiculed us. “What is this you are doing?” they asked. “Are you rebelling against the king?” 20 I answered them by saying, “The God of heaven will give us success. We his servants will start rebuilding, but as for you, you have no share in Jerusalem or any claim or historic right to it.”

Everything in life that is worthwhile comes with a cost. It may not be a financial cost but it will be something that you hold dear and most times it will require something of others around you. Many of our cities and communities lay in ruin and there are those who oppose any change to the current situation. It is not necessarily a physical ruin where structures and buildings are falling down but rather a spiritual and moral ruin.  Division, disunity and despair fill our streets, our homes and our families. But that is not the end.

We have this great promise from the Old Testament and what is required is pretty clear.  2 Chronicles 7:14 states, if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.  

So, have you counted the cost of “rebuilding” your city? What are you being asked to do and are you willing to do your part? What steps can you take right now that will help “rebuild” the city?

 

The True and Better Nehemiah (Nehemiah 2:1-10)

Hopelessness is always a reaction to what’s on the surface, but our desire for restoration goes all the way to the bone.

If you’re an avid TV watcher, you’ve probably encountered one of a dozen reality shows like American Restoration, where a team of professionals take something old and restore it to its original beauty—or as close as they can get it. In a recent article in Christianity Today, Fritz Kling describes an encounter he had with a young woman who had just moved to the city of Richmond.  The young woman loved the slow process of restoring her old home, but caught herself slightly embarrassed by her city’s reputation that lingered from the segregation and oppression during the Civil War.  Kling confronted her with a piercing question:

“Is it possible that, just like you expect your house’s defects and quirks will eventually make it a more interesting and beautiful home, couldn’t we…expect that our city’s complications and baggage make it a more beautiful future city?  Just as old houses are sometimes advertised as a ‘carpenter’s dream,’ couldn’t we view [our city] as a ‘Christian dream?’”[1]

What if Hagerstown was a Christian’s dream come true?  What would happen if we started seeing ourselves as being here with a purpose?

NEHEMIAH BEFORE THE KING (NEHEMIAH 2:1-8)

As we return to Nehemiah’s story, we see that roughly four months pass.  During that time we can imagine Nehemiah as routinely praying before the God of heaven that he would use Nehemiah to fix the walls of the city.

The scene now changes from a conversation between Nehemiah and God to a conversation between Nehemiah and King Artaxerxes.  In chapter 2 we read:

In the month of Nisan [around March], in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes, when wine was before him, I took up the wine and gave it to the king. Now I had not been sad in his presence. And the king said to me, “Why is your face sad, seeing you are not sick? This is nothing but sadness of the heart.” Then I was very much afraid. (Nehemiah 2:1-2)

Nehemiah had good reason to be afraid.  In the ancient world, discontent in the king’s presence was often considered an offense against the king.  The punishment could well be swift and severe.  Nevertheless, Nehemiah, his life changed and shaped by prayer has a new confidence, and so he speaks to the king of the fate of his city.  Look at verse 3:

I said to the king, “Let the king live forever! Why should not my face be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers’ graves, lies in ruins, and its gates have been destroyed by fire?” Then the king said to me, “What are you requesting?” So I prayed to the God of heaven.  (Nehemiah 2:3-4)

Don’t overlook that.  Nehemiah prayed—he prayed, right there before the king.  He had trained his mind so well through months of diligent prayer that in an instant, he was able to direct his thoughts to God and find strength to make a specific request.

And I said to the king, “If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor in your sight, that you send me to Judah, to the city of my fathers’ graves, that I may rebuild it.” And the king said to me (the queen sitting beside him), “How long will you be gone, and when will you return?” So it pleased the king to send me when I had given him a time. And I said to the king, “If it pleases the king, let letters be given me to the governors of the province Beyond the River, that they may let me pass through until I come to Judah, and a letter to Asaph, the keeper of the king’s forest, that he may give me timber to make beams for the gates of the fortress of the temple, and for the wall of the city, and for the house that I shall occupy.” And the king granted me what I asked, for the good hand of my God was upon me.  (Nehemiah 2:5-8)

Nehemiah was the ultimate politician: he built a wall and got the Persians to pay for it.  It could be that Artaxerxes sees this as an opportunity to further his political reach, but God would ironically use this as an opportunity to demonstrate a power all his own.  As for Nehemiah, his life reveals a greater, spiritual truth: The gospel helps us find our voice when others lose all hope. 

Nehemiah became a part of God’s eternal plan to restore his community.  And with God’s help, so too can we attend to the needs of our city today.

THE TRUE AND BETTER NEHEMIAH

Now, Hagerstown is not Jerusalem.  God’s promises to Israel cannot be applied elsewhere.  But the person of Jesus reveals a greater vision for God’s unfolding Kingdom.  Jesus is the true and better Nehemiah.  Like Nehemiah, Jesus leaves a throneroom and a place of privilege to enter the broken city of man.  In Luke’s biography of Jesus he tells us that like Nehemiah, Jesus weeps over the city of Jerusalem as he rides in on the back of a donkey.  On the cross, Jesus offers forgiveness for our past.  Through his resurrection, he offers a vision for our future.  Christians await the day when Jesus returns to put all of creation back to perfection and beauty.  In Revelation 21 we read John’s vision of God’s glorious future: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.”  Following Jesus is more than “waiting to go to heaven when I die;” it’s about longing for the marriage of heaven and earth.  It’s why the writer of Hebrews tells us that “here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.”  In a word, the Christian life vision is one of hope.  Through the cross and resurrection, Jesus undoes the curse of Adam.  In the beginning—the very beginning—one man’s disobedience turned God’s garden into a graveyard.  In the resurrection, the graveyard becomes a garden.  In Jeremiah’s day God called his people in the midst of exile to “seek the good of the city.”  Our prayer this morning is that we might do the same for our city—that we might stand amidst the ruin and declare the radiance of possibility.

TROUBLE BREWING (NEHEMIAH 2:9-10)

Though he had the king’s support (support that extended to other regional governors as well), Nehemiah was not without his opponents:

9 Then I came to the governors of the province Beyond the River and gave them the king’s letters. Now the king had sent with me officers of the army and horsemen. 10 But when Sanballat the Horonite and Tobiah the Ammonite servant heard this, it displeased them greatly that someone had come to seek the welfare of the people of Israel. (Nehemiah 2:9-10)

We addressed the division they stirred in Sunday’s sermon.  If the resurrection of Jesus Christ is indeed a historic reality, then so is our future hope in him.  There can be no opposition to God’s unfolding plan.

The gospel therefore transforms us into men and women who are relentlessly committed to his eternal purposes and conformed to his eternal promises.

 

[1] Fritz Kling, “This Old City: A Christian’s Dream of Renovating Richmond,” ChristianityToday.com.  March 29, 2012.  http://www.christianitytoday.com/thisisourcity/richmond/thisoldcity.html

Will God forgive repeated sins? (1 John 1:1-10)

We’ve talked a lot this week about repentance and the love of God.

But what about our bad habits?  What about repeated sins?  If repentance is to change my attitude toward sin, then how can my repentance be genuine if I continue living in sin?

More to the point, will God forgive me for things I repeatedly do?

The beautiful simplicity of the gospel is that I am acceptable to God not because of the magnitude of my faith, but because of the object of my faith.  If I cling to self-righteousness for my sense of self-worth, then of course I will feel miserable when my failings persist.  But if I cling to Christ’s righteousness, then I will feel grateful for God’s unending forgiveness.

THE TRUTH OF THE GOSPEL

John was one of Jesus’ closest disciples.  In addition to writing one of Jesus’ biographies, John also wrote a series of letters to Christians living in the Mediterranean world.  He begins his first letter by emphasizing the historical reality of the gospel:

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life— 2 the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us— 3 that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. 4 And we are writing these things so that our joy may be complete. (1 John 1:1-4)

John was living in a day when people were beginning to forget just who Jesus was, and others were popping up to make claims about Jesus that weren’t true. John’s letter is largely devoted to correcting these false teachers, but it’s helpful for our question as well.

The gospel isn’t based on wishful thinking—it’s not even primarily about religious teachings.  It’s about a person: a God who walked among us as a human being, a God who stretched his arms out and gave his life as payment for sin, and a God who rose from the grave to proclaim his victory over even this greatest of enemies.

If he is the object of our faith, then, we have only to look to him for forgiveness and healing.

THE IMPACT OF THE GOSPEL

Secondly, John takes some time to unpack the wondrous reality of the gospel:

5 This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. 6 If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. 7 But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. 8 If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. 9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. (1 John 1:5-10)

A relationship with God demands moral purity.  The absence of moral purity demands payment, but rather than demand our blood God offers his own.

We can respond to sin by living in denial, but John will allow none of this.  Instead John encourages us to confront the brutal reality of our sin while maintaining confidence in the cleansing forgiveness offered by God.

In one of his sermons from the last century, Dr. Martin Lloyd-Jones put it this way:

“So as I am aware of my sinfulness and my unworthiness and my unrighteousness, I look to the blood of Jesus Christ, and I see there the forgiveness of God.  I see the justice of God; I know that there God has forgiven and still forgives and will forgive….I can have this confidence that the death of Christ upon the cross is the propitiation for my sins—indeed, for the sins of the whole world—and that all my sins have been dealt with and are covered, are removed and banished there in Him.

Knowing thus the faithfulness and justice of God and the power of the blood of Christ to deliver me and to cleanse me from the guilt and stain of my sins, I can with confidence go forward, knowing that all is clear, my conscience has been cleansed, and I can continue to walk with God.”[1]

And that’s what separates gospel repentance from “cheap” forms of grace that ignores the gravity of sin.  It’s tempting, after all, to dismiss Christianity because God’s forgiveness gives us license to do as we please.  On the contrary; God’s grace sets us free to walk with him, and as we walk with him our character changes, our hearts are molded continually into the image of his Son.

So if you struggle with the need to repeatedly repent for the same thing, take heart; you are not alone.  The gospel promises that you are made clean by the endless grace of God, and the gospel likewise promises that as you move forward in the presence of God and the presence of like-minded Christians, your repentance will gradually become a real and lasting part of your character, until that day when all shall be made perfect and complete.

Take heart, dear Christian; God’s not done with you yet.

 

[1] Martin Lloyd-Jones, Life in Christ: Studies in 1 John.  (Wheaton: Crossway, 2002), 134.

“At home” in God (John 15:9-17)

“Love” has virtually become a bankrupt word—a scarecrow of a word without life other than the dried meanings we stuff inside it.

After all, we can “love” anything, can’t we?  I love my fiancée.  But I also love tacos.  I certainly don’t love tacos the way I love my fiancée, but when I’m hungry the magnitude feels close.

One of the most fascinating books I’ve read in the last few years has been one by Yale professor Simon May as he chronicles the history of love in western cultures.  Though not a spiritual man, May begins with the Hebrew Bible and then moves through the years, from writers ranging from ancient philosophy to Sigmund Freud.

In surveying this wide spectrum, he concludes that “love” is a sense of “ontological rootedness,” or—more simply—love is a feeling of being “at home” with someone.  It’s a way of saying: I belong here. 

JOY AND RELAXATION

If you’re a follower of Jesus you probably have no problem using “love” and “God” in the same sentence.  Chances are you do so every time you participate in a worship service.

But I bet there are many of you who struggle to comprehend what it truly means to experience the love of God, and so you may find yourself wondering if your love for him is real—or perhaps just a bit one-sided.

Yesterday we started looking at portions of Jesus’ farewell address to his followers on the night he was arrested.  He encourages them to “abide” in him—to be saturated in his presence and to allow his character to become their own.

Now he describes the joy that the love of God can produce:

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. 10 If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. 11 These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” (John 15:9-11)

Love comes from God, Jesus tells us.  Jesus’ relationship to his Father serves as a model for our obedience to Christ.

Then Jesus clarifies the reason for these instructions.  In a word: joy.  What is joy?  Joy is not the same as happiness.  Happiness, of course, is utterly dependent on circumstances.  With a single phone call, a single bad day at work, a single negative remark, and our fragile happiness now lies on the ground in a thousand glittering slivers.

Joy is independent of circumstances.  Joy is finding contentment in God alone, knowing that he is enough regardless of what happens around us.

This is why understanding God’s love is so important.  I once heard faith defined as a willingness to relax.  Are there people in your life that you can relax around?  Not your boss; he or she probably makes you nervous.  Maybe not even members of your family.  There’s some people who you feel like you have to impress, or keep calm, or “manage” rather than relax around.

But there’s others—a small handful—around whom we can be completely comfortable, completely vulnerable.  Maybe it’s that close friend that you can pick up the phone at any hour, and resume a conversation as if you’d never hung up.  Maybe it’s your spouse, the one who knows your most intimate flaws and sees only the edges of God’s design in you.  Around these people, you are free to relax, to experience joy.

God knows you through and through.  To abide in Christ, to have faith, means to relax.  I don’t mean we’re free to be lazy; I mean that because we rely on Christ’s righteousness, we have the confidence that we are perfectly and eternally loved and accepted.

Breathe easy, dear Christian.  There’s joy here.

WHAT MORE COULD HE HAVE DONE?

Still, it’s hard to fully wrap our heads around the magnitude of what God has done on our behalf.  Again, turning to Jesus, this is what he says:

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command you.15 No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. 17 These things I command you, so that you will love one another.” (John 15:12-17)

Jesus speaks of the fact that we did not choose him—he chose us.  And we are joined as one by his blood, a blood poured out on our behalf.

Brennan Manning offers an illustration of this in his book The Importance of Being Foolish.  He tells the story of Casey and Jack—two best friends who served together during the heaviest combat of the Korean War. One dreary night, in the midst of a light snow, a hand grenade landed in the bunker where Casey and Jack were positioned.  Without hesitation, Casey threw himself on the grenade.

When the war ended Jack entered the religious life.  In sympathy for the loss of her son, Jack befriended Casey’s mother.  So strong was their bond that he would often divide his holidays between his family and that of his departed friend.

One summer he visited during a state of profound depression.  Unexpectedly, Jack asked if Casey—the same Casey that had thrown himself on a live grenade—really loved him.  Brennan writes:

She laughed. “Oh, Jack, ya sure got a way with ya.” It was a faint Irish brogue.

“Ya can’t be serious.”

“I am serious,” Robison replied.

There was fear in her eyes. “Now stop funnin’ me, Jack.”

“I’m not funnin, Ma”

She looked at him in disbelief. Then fear turned to fury…this night she stood up and screamed, “…what more could he ha’ done fer ya?”

Then she sank back in the chair, buried her head in her bosom, and began to sob. Over and over again the same phrase was endlessly, unbearably repeated: “What more could he ha’ done fer ya’?” [1]

We all experience seasons in which we may doubt the love of God.  We all have seasons in which we find it hard to “relax” in the love of God, to feel “at home” in his presence.

Then we look at the cross.

We look at the place where Jesus bled and died, we look at the place where love ran red as our sin washed white, where God’s justice was met and our debts were wiped clean.

And as we look, we are lifted out of the shallow narratives of discontent that we insist on playing in our minds, and instead lean into the great story of God’s redemption.

What more could he have done?

 

[1] Brennan Manning, The Importance of Being Foolish, p. 62.

Abide (John 15:1-8)

“If I were the Devil,” wrote Paul Harvey, “I should set out however necessary to take over the United States.”

Paul Harvey’s 1963 has now echoed with social conservatives for the better part of a century.  What would happen if Satan took control of our city?  According to Paul Harvey, the city would buckle beneath the weight of its social vices:

“I’d peddle narcotics to whom I could, I’d sell alcohol to ladies and gentlemen of distinction, I’d tranquilize the rest with pills. If I were the Devil, I would encourage schools to refine young intellects, but neglect to discipline emotions; let those run wild. I’d designate an atheist to front for me before the highest courts and I’d get preachers to say, ‘She’s right.’ With flattery and promises of power I would get the courts to vote against God and in favor of pornography. Thus I would evict God from the courthouse, then from the schoolhouse, then from the Houses of Congress. Then in his own churches I’d substitute psychology for religion and deify science.”[1]

Harvey, of course, was issuing a cautionary tale, one which connects the dots between moral decline and urban decay.

But what really would happen if Satan took over a city?  In his book Christless Christianity, Michael Horton recalls a sermon from Donald Grey Barnhouse that offered a vision altogether different from Paul Harvey:

“Barnhouse speculated that if Satan took over Philadelphia (the city where Barnhouse pastored), all of the bars would be closed, pornography banished, and pristine streets would be filled with tidy pedestrians who smiled at each other. There would be no swearing. The children would say, ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘No ma’am,’ and the churches would be full every Sunday…where Christ is not preached.’”[2]

There are two kinds of “lost,” two ways to wander away from God.  Harvey envisioned a world of self-indulgence, but Barnhouse envisioned a world of self-righteousness.

And both are forms of disobedience.

BEING IMMERSED IN THE GOSPEL

“Superficiality,” writes Richard Foster, “is the curse of our age.”

In countless churches we’ve grown preoccupied with the perfected surface.  We understand the dance, the social customs.  We sing during worship, we may even scribble a few notes.  We’re doing alright, we tell ourselves. We measure success by our latest spiritual experience, all the while striving for kids who are well-behaved and city streets free of litter and crime.

It’s easy to rely on yourself for superficial things; masks are never that hard to make.  When we go deeper, when suffering or circumstances penetrate our surface defenses and pierce our souls—well, that’s when we need a greater source of reliance.

On the night that he was betrayed, Jesus gathered his closest followers together in the upper room, offering him the equivalent of a “commencement speech,” describing what life was to look like in their new mission:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. 2 Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. 3 Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. 4 Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. 6 If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7 If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8 By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.” (John 15:1-8)

Now, all throughout John’s biography of Jesus we read these brief little “I AM” statements.  Jesus uses everyday words and images to convey something deeper about who he is—and what he came to do.

A vine was ordinary enough.  In many Jewish scriptures Israel was compared to a vine (e.g., Psalm 80:8-16; Isaiah 5:1-7).  An image of a vine was even stamped on some ancient coins.

But Jesus was saying that he was the true vine.  Unlike every other religious teacher—both ancient and modern—Jesus wasn’t saying: “Come connect with my teaching;” he was saying: “Come connect to me.”

The word he uses (seven times in these eight verses alone!) is abide.  “Abide” is a simple enough word, but like the imagery of the vine its meaning runs deep.  The word literally means to “dwell in,” the way we might abide in someone’s home.  But Jesus is saying that we dwell in him.

We actually use similar expressions in English.  For instance, when learning a foreign language we talk about the need to be “immersed” in a language or a culture.  Why?  Because total immersion is the best way to learn a new language or a set of customs.  By inhabiting a place, the place rubs off on us in ways we aren’t always even aware.

Jesus is calling us to be immersed in him—to saturate ourselves in the customs and language and teachings and beauty of his Kingdom, and to lift our eyes from the bleak horizon of our own empires of cobwebs and dust.

“I STAND AND KNOCK”

Later in his life, John would pen the book we know as Revelation.  In the opening chapters, Jesus speaks through John to write letters to a series of ancient churches.

Among them is the Church of Laodicea.  This was the church that Jesus famously called “lukewarm:”

“For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. 18 I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. 19 Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent.” (Revelation 3:17-19)

This was a church that had “prospered.”  You can imagine their success: worship music blasting, church programs thriving, services multiplying.  If you were new in town, this was the church to be at, that’s for sure.

But Jesus calls them to repent.  In fact, it’s to this church that Jesus writes: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.”

Growing up I heard this verse a thousand times—usually in conjunction with a bad piece of Sunday School art depicting Jesus “knocking on the door of a sinner’s heart.”  The implication, of course, is that to be “saved” you had to “invite Jesus in.”

It was years before I realized that Jesus wasn’t saying this to a group of unbelievers; he was saying this to a group of Christians. 

It’s possible—dangerously, deliriously possible—that our churches could bust at the seams…

…but leave Jesus standing in the parking lot.

For our sake, for our city’s sake, for God’s sake, we need to return to Christ’s call to abide. We need to saturate ourselves in the exquisite richness of his gospel.

And most of all, if we have relied too heavily on our own religious performance, it’s time we invite him back into our lives, asking him to teach us to follow him anew.

 

[1] Paul Harvey, “If I Were the Devil,” October 13, 1963, WND.com, publisher.

[2] Michael Horton, Christless Christianity: The Alternative Gospel of the American Church