Keeping Score on True Success (Luke 12)

People have been fighting over inheritances since practically the beginning of time. I shared a story in a sermon not long ago about how it had even happened in my family system on the one occasion of my administration of a will. The individual disputing it was not a surprise. He had been worrying about this for decades – hoping for the best while fearing the worst, all driven by greed.

And that is the setting for the parable given by Jesus in today’s text. It is a brother who is unhappy with the way the settlement of an estate was progressing. Jesus was considered by the people as a rabbi – a teacher – and it was not uncommon in the Jewish culture for people to come to rabbis in order to have an adjudication or opinion in the midst of a controversy.

Luke 12:13 – Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.”

14 Jesus replied, “Man, who appointed me a judge or an arbiter between you?” 15 Then he said to them, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.”

At first, this does not seem like an unreasonable request. Perhaps the man was being dealt with unjustly. The likely scenario is that this is a brother who is not the first-born son. There were particular rights that went along with the first born that included a double portion of the inheritance. So, with two sons, the eldest got two-thirds while the other received one-third.

The Scriptures comment in other places that Jesus was able to see into the hearts of individuals and know the true motivational condition of those with whom he interacted. And on this occasion he was able to see that the issue of greed was inspiring the petitioner. And to that subject he gave a warning by also giving a story … what we know as “The Parable of the Rich Fool.”

16 And he told them this parable: “The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. 17 He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’

18 “Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. 19 And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’

20 “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’

21 “This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.”

Let’s make a couple of observations:

  • The man was already rich and highly-blessed even before he had an unusual harvest.
  • Though the man was certainly not lazy, the reason for his “abundance” was not sourced through extra work, but rather a bumper crop from the ground.
  • The only consideration crossing the man’s mind was how he could keep the entire produce of the crop for himself – it never seems to cross his mind that he could give it away or share it with those in need.
  • Even if future years would not produce at the same bonus rate, presumably there would be enough, so the effort to work now was to avoid work later – clearly stated in his “eat, drink and be merry attitude.”
  • There is nothing to be taken from this passage to suggest that prudent planning for the future is not a good thing … but this is a matter of a person who is trusting only in himself and his own provision, rather than in God to supply.
  • Conclusion: God and the eternal values of his kingdom are not in his equation.

The man presumed that he would live long and have great pleasure, but in the story we see that his life is cut short unexpectedly, and all his wealth was of no value but to be passed on to whomever might receive it.

The application is to rather be rich toward God, and in this way there can be a generous use of resources both in this world, yet also with eternal value for God and his kingdom. By this, our identity is as a steward of God – who gives us the resources to use well and wisely.

But we know that in American – beyond any country or culture in the history of the world – there is no shortage of people who rather find their identity in the accumulation of material possessions or in positions of prominence. It is as if these assets are a sort of score card or grade report that identifies them as winners and achievers.

Over the course of today and the following three days, I am going to ask a series of thought-provoking, discussion sorts of questions – one for each day.

So here is the first of four major questions this week:

Week 2, Question 1 – What are the natural motivating issues of human life that drive us (if unchecked) to desire to greedily accumulate material assets?

Come back tomorrow and we’ll think and talk about this some more.

Stories That Cut to the Heart of Things

Our 14-week summer series on the parables of Jesus has gotten off to a great start by Chris – both in his sermon on Sunday and with the first week of writings. This summer we will be sharing back and forth, each of us writing a week at a time … again, with Fridays as a preview, followed by Monday to Thursday discussing the topic preached on Sunday, along with a series of questions for discussion and meditation.

On the theme of “Story”

To some extent, we have addressed these ideas previously in sermon series a number of years ago, though neither of those collections were specifically on the parables of Jesus. Rather, we have talked in the past about how the Bible from beginning to end is one big story. It starts with a sort of “once upon a time” idea, and ends with a sort of “and they lived happily ever after.”

The challenge and need of our lives (and our stories) is to get aligned with this “meta-story” of God’s work from eternity past to eternity future. And Jesus’ parables are essentially this: describing and giving wisdom to listeners as to how to have values systems and lives that are aligned with God’s kingdom.

So this is a great and timeless theme. These are not just cute little ditties that make Jesus look like a storyteller extraordinaire. No, these teachings draw us to consideration as to how we align our entire life story and priorities with God’s priorities.

Looking Back to the Past Week

I have always loved the story of the Sower and the Seed. I distinctly remember a sermon series on this topic that was very influential in my life in my formative years.

The pastor who delivered these messages had some great illustrations on the things that take the seed away before it can be sown and find root and produce fruit. This theft of the “Word” (the Seed) is identified in the story that as from Satan, who is like the bird that swoops in and snatches the seed away.

My home church (the one I visited just last Sunday for the retirement of a dear pastor friend), had a metal roof when I was a boy. And sure enough, when it rained hard, it made quite a noise. I recall the pastor saying that it always seemed to pour just at the moment of the application of the message. And what would people do at that moment? Look at the ceiling! It never leaked and there was nothing to see; but sure enough, the seed was taken away by the distraction.

If the rain didn’t ruin the sermon, the municipal building across the street would do so! As in Williamsport to this day, whenever there was a fire or ambulance call, the siren in the building immediately across the street would blast. There always seemed to be an emergency right at the moment of the application of the sermon.

I have long noted the pattern that computers and copy machines and everything of the sort that helps a church service happen, will break down on a Sunday morning at a rate multiple times higher than on the other days of the week combined! And when Satan fell from heaven, I’ll tell you where he landed – in the sound system of churches! If anything can go wrong to distract, it will.

Looking ahead to Sunday and the coming week

We are going to look at a pair of passages – in Luke 12:13-21 and Luke 14:25-33. These will involve a total of three parables: the rich fool, the builder of a tower, and a king facing war. The common theme is trusting God over material assets, and counting the cost of discipleship.

Too many people are susceptible to two conflicting ways of thinking within Western society today: finding one’s person identity in consumerism, hard work and success, or, putting out little effort toward accomplishment, believing that life is simply “random” … not worth the effort.

The gospel challenges the first group by reminding us that human identity cannot be circumscribed by possessions or worldly gain (“building a bigger barn”).  The gospel challenges the second group by reminding us that God has a sovereign plan, and that demands our participation (“counting the cost”).

So we will see you Sunday, if you are in town this week (remember that the great kids summer program begins). And if you are away, track with us through the readings, as there will be a series of four probing questions based upon these texts that we will look at on Monday through Thursday.

Receiving the Word EXCLUSIVELY (Mark 4:18-20)

In the parable of the sower, Jesus explains the final two types of soil.  Take a moment to read Mark 4:18-20:

 18 And others are the ones sown among thorns. They are those who hear the word, 19 but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. 20 But those that were sown on the good soil are the ones who hear the word and accept it and bear fruit, thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold.” (Mark 4:18-20)

Though it doesn’t actually produce fruit, the seed among thorns is the only type to flourish and grow.  The problem is that its growth is quickly halted by “the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things.”  We might say that personal growth depends on the object of our worship.  Why is it so tempting to allow things like career, relationships, etc. to have an influence in our lives?

Our world often speaks a conflicting message.  On the one hand, we’re told that personal “growth” is about being “true to yourself.”   On the other hand, we’re constantly bombarded by the message of self-improvement.  But authenticity can never thrive in a world that pushes us not to find ourselves, but to create ourselves by buying the “right” products, having the “right” job, or working on better relationships.  The result?  True growth becomes stifled, because the standards of measuring our growth are constantly-moving targets.

The gospel says that we can be authentic by recognizing the magnitude of our sin before God, but embracing the magnitude of his love in return.  Yes, consumerism brings an immediacy—we feel better after a little “retail therapy,” or if we can experience the temporary satisfaction of a relationship.

God’s way is different, and it is far from immediate.  You don’t need to be a farmer to recognize that a crop yield of “a hundredfold” is a staggering crop yield.  What was Jesus saying?  That to receive the word EXCLUSIVELY means flourishing and fruitfulness—but it doesn’t happen all at once.

Jesus’ kingdom—that is, the rule and reign of God on earth—is both a present reality as well as a future hope.  Yes, today seems difficult.  But tomorrow looks beautiful.  The struggles we endure here are temporary; God’s kingdom will be eternal.  And so we serve God’s kingdom as it is presently expressed in Christian community and witness, and we wait for Christ’s return when God’s kingdom will be permanently established for all time.

Yes, the world seems a bleak place.  But God’s kingdom shines all the brighter.  In a recent blog post, my friend Jared Wilson speaks of the persecution and hardship that Christians are experiencing around the globe.  “Cheer up,” he reminds us.  “The worse they can do is kill us.  And we all know what God does with dead stuff.”

 

 

 

Receiving the Word Deeply (Mark 4:16-17)

Today we continue our exploration of Jesus’ parable of the four soils.  The seed along the path heard the gospel, but failed to immediately respond, thus allowing Satan to snatch it away.  Now Jesus turns his attention to the seed “on rocky ground:”

16 And these are the ones sown on rocky ground: the ones who, when they hear the word, immediately receive it with joy. 17 And they have no root in themselves, but endure for a while; then, when tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away. (Mark 4:16-17)

Jesus contrasts a person’s initial emotional experience (“receive it with joy”) and later persecution.  What might this indicate regarding the basis of one’s faith? The problem here is one of rootedness—“they have no root,” Jesus tells us.  If you pardon the mixed metaphor, the lack of root points to an insecure foundation.  We might say two things:

  • Experience alone cannot sustain faith. When I think of this example, I think of the youth group kids who go away on a youth retreat or a missions trip, and return with a rekindled passion for serving others.   They speak of having a “heart for God” or being “on fire.”  And we rightly applaud them—after all, should we not throw gasoline on this fire?  The tragedy, of course, is that when someone young—or at least young in their faith—does not develop a deeply rooted faith, they lack the stability to persevere.  Instead they are condemned to chase after renewed experiences.  Tragedy doesn’t begin when someone loses their faith; it begins when they get bored with it.  When this happens, they are forced to chase after the next spiritual “high”—the latest worship CD, the latest Christian book, the latest Podcast, the latest religious project.  But without that root, their faith cannot stand the test of persecution.
  • Persecution uproots shallow faith.   Don’t neglect the fact that Jesus specifies that the persecution is “on account of the word.”  Mark was writing in a season when early Christians were experiencing rampant persecution.  They knew what it was like to look to their right and left and see faithful neighbors quickly backpedal when their faith put them at odds with the Romans.  What about us?  Savvy readers keep sending me articles that all cite a recent study from the Pew Research center.  The study reports that a growing number of people are more likely to define themselves as religiously “unaffiliated”—that is, “not religious” rather than Christian.  But this might be a good thing.  Why?  Because previously, people were more likely to define themselves as “Christian” because it was the socially acceptable thing to do.  They’d been raised in church, or their family held a membership at the local Baptist Church down the block or something.  But Christianity is no longer viewed as socially acceptable.  Thus many are abandoning their claims to Christianity in the face of social pressure.  Jesus was right.  When our faith is built on emotional experience or social acceptance, this shallow faith is quickly torn up by the winds of social change.

The alternative, of course, is to receive the Word DEEPLY.  To press oneself into the character of God so that our faith could run more deeply than the fleeting highs of religious experience, but rest on the secure character of God.

Receiving the Word Immediately (Mark 4:13-15)

As we mentioned on Sunday, we’re approaching our writing schedule a bit differently this summer.  During the week, we’re aiming at shorter devotionals, primarily in a question-and-answer style format.  The goal is simple: this summer, don’t take a vacation from God.  As much as we like to have you physically with us on Sunday mornings, we also recognize that this season brings increased opportunity for vacations, picnics, sports practices, etc.  So while you’re physically away, we want you to stay spiritually connected—to continue being the church during this summer season.  To that end, here’s today’s post:

Take a moment to read Mark 4:13-15:

13 And he said to them, “Do you not understand this parable? How then will you understand all the parables? 14 The sower sows the word. 15 And these are the ones along the path, where the word is sown: when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them.  (Mark 4:13-15)

Jesus had been teaching publicly, but he now unpacks his parable privately.  Each of the soils he’d mentioned in the parable represent different responses to the gospel.  This also means each represents a unique challenge to those of us that receive the gospel.  In contrast to the seed along the path, we are challenged to receive God’s Word IMMEDIATELY—with no hesitation, lest it fail to take root in our lives.  Stop and think—and maybe discuss as a family—what are some reasons people may have for not allowing the gospel to take root immediately?

We might begin to answer this by pointing out that Jesus doesn’t seem to be drawing tidy categories about who is “saved” or “unsaved.”  But he is saying that the way we receive the word tells us a great deal about our experience of life in the kingdom.

So—to respond to today’s question—what might be some reasons that some fail to allow the gospel to take root in their lives?

  • First, some may not understand the radical nature of the gospel, instead confusing its message for one of morality or self-improvement. Who needs that?  After all, don’t we often think of ourselves as “basically a good person?”  And are there not many ways to self-improvement?  Why bother with religion at all?
  • Secondly, some might see Christianity as something quite positive—but see it as a goal to be reserved for the future. “When the time is right,” we might say, “I’ll get more involved with my church.”  Maybe this means when you have kids, or when the kids are older—it’s usually parents trying to make sure their kids “grow up right.”  But pretty soon we’re swept along the path and life has its way of moving us from the essential nature of the gospel to a thousand other things that demand our attention.
  • Third, there might be some who fail to act on what they hear because they fear social pressures. It’s not exactly a positive thing to be a “born again Christian.”  No one likes a fanatic, so why not keep God in my life, just not be all, you know, “religious” about the whole thing.  And of course this reduces God to a hobby or a nutritional supplement—not a way of life.  It’s no wonder that spirituality then gets packed away along with last year’s athletic equipment.

There may indeed be other examples, but Jesus challenges us to recognize that yes, there are those in our life that do not receive his message with immediacy, and as a result they seem to fall away.  May we be in prayer for them, as well as for ourselves—that we might respond to God’s grace and God’s Word without hesitation.

Kingdom of Scars (Mark 4:1-12)

While every story is different, there are some themes that repeat themselves in multiple narratives.  Themes like redemption.  Themes like hope.  In the musical Les Miserables, the people sing a song of freedom, the hope of a revolution:

Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men?
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drum
There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.

Though separated by both time and geography, we might imagine this same song on the lips of Jesus’ earliest followers.  They yearned for a king.  They yearned for an end to the tyranny of Roman imperialism.  What they got was a traveling teacher who spoke of his kingdom through a series of cryptic stories we call “parables.”  The word “parable” literally means “to throw alongside of.”  If you were an engineering major, you might recognize the word as related to the term “parabola”—the arc formed when you throw a ball or launch some sort of projectile.  The idea, of course, is that truth gets tossed out not in some direct way, but rather it gets communicated a bit differently—a bit more subtly.

Because ancient biographers didn’t care about chronological sequence, it’s hard to pin down an exact order to the parables Jesus told.  But the parable of the sower seems to offer some key to the interpretation of the rest:

Again he began to teach beside the sea. And a very large crowd gathered about him, so that he got into a boat and sat in it on the sea, and the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. 2 And he was teaching them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: 3 “Listen! Behold, a sower went out to sow. 4 And as he sowed, some seed fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured it. 5 Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and immediately it sprang up, since it had no depth of soil.6 And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root, it withered away. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. 8 And other seeds fell into good soil and produced grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold.” 9 And he said, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” (Mark 4:1-9)

Now, these types of agrarian images weren’t uncommon for either the Jews or the Greeks.  But Jesus is apparently using them to communicate the truth about his kingdom:

10 And when he was alone, those around him with the twelve asked him about the parables. 11 And he said to them, “To you has been given the secret of the kingdom of God, but for those outside everything is in parables, 12 so that

“they may indeed see but not perceive,
and may indeed hear but not understand,
lest they should turn and be forgiven.” (Mark 4:10-12)

It’s a little strange, isn’t it?  To obscure the truth seems counterproductive—unless your kingdom isn’t meant to come by force.  Pastor and author Tim Keller once noted that while yes, there were certain things that Jesus said that are easy to understand, but Jesus said many things that we might liken to hard candy.  Try and bite into them, and you chip your teeth.  But savor them for a while, and you will taste their sweetness.  That’s what many of Jesus’ parables do for us.  We’ll spend the rest of the week unpacking the parable itself, but for now we can spend some time wrapping our heads around the nature of “the kingdom.”

Most people have no trouble knowing whose kingdom they belong to.  Most kingdoms come through force—or at least through power and compulsion.  For example, tax season or jury duty can serve as a simple reminder that your citizenship to the United States comes with certain responsibilities.  But though his followers yearned for revolution, Jesus’ kingdom—that is, the rule and reign of God—came not through power but through weakness.

In Edward Shellitto’s 19th-Century poem “Jesus of the Scars,” he uses the final verse to contrast the ways of worldly (or even religious) kingdoms with the kingdom of God:

The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.

Vulnerability precedes victory.  To follow Jesus is to step into a world of both thoughtfulness and obscurity, a world where a crown of thorns precedes a crown of glory.  Each of Jesus’ parables reveals something about God’s kingdom—the great story of God told in the short stories of Jesus’ parables.  And he invites you and I to journey with him as we learn our place in this greater story.

 

 

Why stories?

What language is spoken more widely than English, Spanish, Chinese, or any other human language combined?

Story.

If you’ll forgive the trick question you might pause and consider the way that few other things are as common to our humanity as our love of narrative, of story, of finding a way to combine disconnected facts into a cohesive whole.  Think about it: this summer millions of Americans will plunk down their hard-earned change to gather in a darkened theater to soak in the latest summer blockbuster.  And while high-budget special effects may dazzle us, while emotive performances might move us, what keeps us coming back—and what keeps us talking about—to the Marvel Universe or Disney’s latest fare is story. 

But why?  We might highlight three reasons.

STORY MAKES SENSE OF LIFE

First, as we’ve already noted, story represents a universal human language.  Science fiction novelist Ursula K. LeGuin famously observed that “there have been great societies that did not use the wheel, but there have been no societies that did not tell stories.”  Today’s world is no exception.  Just ask Robert McKee.  McKee knows something about this—his famous work Story is basically the textbook for Hollywood screenwriters.  He says:

“The world now consumes films, novels, theatre and television in such quantities and with such ravenous hunger that the story arts have become humanity’s prime source of inspiration, as it seeks to order chaos and gain insight into life.  Our appetite for story is a reflection of the profound human need to grasp the pattern of living, not merely as an intellectual exercise, but within a very personal, emotional experience.  In the words of playwright Jean Anoulli, ‘Fiction gives life its form.’”  (Robert McKee, Story: Substance, Style, Structure and the Principles of Screenwriting, p. 12)

Could it be that you and I were created in the image of a Master Storyteller?

STORIES CONVEY A MORAL MESSAGE

Second, stories convey an explicitly moral message.  And, McKee would note, that’s actually why contemporary movies have been particularly challenging to produce.  It used to be that film audiences agreed upon a universal moral compass.  Good and evil were easy to identify.  Now, not so much.

“Values, the positive/negative changes of life, are the soul of our art.  The writer shapes story around a perception of what’s worth living for, what’s worth dying for, what’s foolish to pursue, the meaning of justice, truth – the essential values.  In decades past, writer and society more or less agreed on these questions, but more and more ours has become an age of moral and ethical cynicism, relativism, and subjectivism – a great confusion of values.  As the family disintegrates and sexual antagonisms rise, who, for example, feels he understands the nature of love?  And how, if you do have a conviction, do you express it to an ever-more skeptical audience?”  (McKee, Story, p. 17)

Again, this isn’t coming from an alarmist religious-type; this is coming from the influential behind-the-scenes folks in Hollywood.  A “culture” is basically a group of people who share the same story—who agree on what is right and wrong, what is good, beautiful, and true.  But Western culture has moved away from a common answer to these questions.  “There is not one big cosmic meaning for all;” writes Anaias Nin.  “There is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.”  But that hardly seems satisfying.  No; what we need is a story that points us toward beauty and truth.

STORIES UNIQUELY SENSITIZE US TO THAT MESSAGE

This naturally leads us to why stories have so much value—and power.  Consider the life of King David.  Roughly 1,000 years before the birth of Jesus, David was on the throne.  But at one point in his life he stayed home while his armies waged war.  What happens?  He sleeps with the girl next door, gets her pregnant, then covers his tracks by having her husband “accidentally” killed on the battlefield.  He’d become numb to his own treachery.  But the prophet Nathan snaps him out of this fog of self-deception with a story:

And the Lord sent Nathan to David. He came to him and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. 2 The rich man had very many flocks and herds, 3 but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. And he brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children. It used to eat of his morsel and drink from his cup and lie in his arms, and it was like a daughter to him. 4 Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was unwilling to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the guest who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb and prepared it for the man who had come to him.”  (2 Samuel 12:1-4)

Had Nathan confronted David directly, it’s uncertain whether David would have listened.  Perhaps he’d have covered his tracks with another excuse.  But stories are never a frontal assault.  No; stories are what one writer compared to a “Trojan horse.”  They lull us into accepting the world they present us, then, when we least suspect, the trap is sprung, and we are confronted with their underlying message.  That’s what happened to David:

Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man, and he said to Nathan, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die, 6 and he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” (2 Samuel 12:5-6)

It’s only then that David utters the painful words: “You are that man!”

THE STORYTELLING JESUS

During his years on earth, Jesus told many stories—what we now call “parables.”  Like the story told by Nathan, these stories are also something of a “Trojan horse.”  Unlike a direct challenge or teaching, they draw us into the world of the story, only to confront us with some truth about God and his kingdom.

The subject of these stories is indeed important, because otherwise we might get caught up in thinking that Jesus’ primary concern was some moral message.  Morality is important, of course, and we certainly find moral lessons embedded in his parables.  But the larger point was about God and his kingdom—that is, the rule and reign of God in the world.  When we begin to recognize the many ways that we might understand this kingdom, we—like David—are sensitized to a greater reality outside the darkened walls of self.

Jesus’ stories may not be the next summer blockbuster, but this summer we invite you to travel with us to first-century Galilee, to sit at the feet of Jesus, the Master Storyteller, and hear his voice as he offers us these small portraits—these snapshots, if you will—of what His Father’s Kingdom is like.