Entering a Sabbath Rest

Mark records two episodes in which Jesus and the Pharisees have a confrontration about the Sabbath.

In Mark 2:23-3:6, the disciples of Jesus are critized for picking heads of grain on the Sabbath, and the Pharisees plot to destroy Jesus when he healed a man on the Sabbath.

Jesus’ pithy, but weighty, summary of the argument against Pharisee criticism is that the Sabbath is made for man, and the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.

Here we discover that the Sabbath day was a weekly reminder that God provided for his people enough during the week to sustain them on the day of rest. The weekly Sabbath is a picture of God’s provision of righteousness for his people, so that they, too, can rest from their works (of righteousness) in order to rely upon God’s provision (of righteousness).

As Hebrews 3:14 in context demonstrates, we who enter God’s rest now enter it “in Christ.” That is, Christ is our Sabbath rest.

Praise God.

Looking for Greed in All the Wrong Places

A well-educated, intelligent high school classmate of mine, who now works in public higher education, recently posted a joke on her facebook page (I modified her use of a sexual insult to describe Tea Party activists):

“A unionized public employee, a Tea Partier, and a CEO are sitting around a plate of a dozen cookies. The CEO takes eleven cookies, looks at the Tea Partier, and says ‘Watch out for that union guy…I think he wants your cookie’.”

Gordon Gecko, the iconic insider and money-grubber, epitomized in the movie “Wall Street” what some apparently believe to be the only word in the world about greed. It is as if everything we know in our collective conscience to be true about greed and about capitalism we obtained from that movie.

Indeed, given recent trends in political discourse, given the “buffet of buffoonery” occuring in Wisconsin over reigning in union expense, and now Michael Moore’s recent hysterical comments that rich people’s money is not theirs, but “part of the national resourses”, I would not be surprised to find that the Wikipedia entry for “greed” simply played a clip of Gordon Gecko’s famous speech from “Wall Street,” while its entry for humility was simply a photo of Wisconsin union protestors.

I’m reminded of the old Looney Tune cartoon in which Bugs and Daffy get lost and find a genie’s hidden treasure (“Nyah, I should have taken a left turn at Albuquerque”).  Daffy sets out to stuff his pockets with all manner of goodies, until he finds the biggest pearl in the place. His conversation is then reduced to the proclamation “Mine, mine, all mine!”, which we would all agree to be a manifestation of pure greed.

But was Daffy greedy only after he got the pearl? Or did his greed compel him to fight all comers — including Bugs and the genie — and to give up all else in order to secure it? (He gave up his stature, too, when the genie ended up shrinking Daffy…yet his greed remained full-size).

We are, in our present political and cultural discourse, working from the assumption that only those who already have can be greedy. Those who want everything from them — or who simply want more, more, more — cannot, we suppose, be greedy.

It is a fact that those on the right too infrequently castigate the rampant capitalist for his greed, yet those on the left too often seem willing to cite only the capitalist for greed, when it is obvious that they hold no monopoly — pun intended — on that deadly vice.

My friend’s joke was meant to portray the greedy and his victim. It was funny, as jokes go. But perhaps the unionized public employee didn’t get too worked up because his greed was sated: he was getting his cookies straight from the State kitchen, for life.

Are CEOs all bad? No. Are unions all bad? No. My point is simply that accusing one group of sinful behavior, while considering it impossible that another is also guilty, is naive and not beneficial to public discourse and the resolution of civic problems.

Westboro Baptist Church & the Supreme Court

One would be hard-pressed to find in the rantings of Westboro Baptist Church picketers anything resembling the biblical gospel.

[As Ed Stetzer (@edstetzer) said, the only thing correct in the name is the congregation’s location.]

Even finding an example of biblical prophecy — the “forthtelling” which indicted God’s people for violations of the covenant relationship — in Westboro’s picketing seems an effort in futility.

Yet as much as biblical Christ-followers cringe at the apparent distortion of the biblical gospel, the abuse of the prophetic role in society, and the consequent maligning of the gospel and God,the Supreme Court is right.

Under the U.S. Constitution’s First Amendment, the government has no right to decide what constitutes a true church, what constitutes a biblical — or even true — message, or what people claiming the name of Christ can shout from a street corner.

In short, the Supreme Court is not a “repugnance cop.”

If it were, we would look much more like the Middle East despots who are even now being toppled in part because of such behavior.

And, given the world-wide tenor of attitude toward Christian belief, American believers should be thankful that for now our government protects the right of believers not only to practice their faith free of public intrustion, but also to talk about it openly.

This is good news in light of the problems that open-air evangelism is experiencing in Michigan, outside an Islamic festival. Good news in light of the United Kingdom’s disqualification of foster parents because of their biblical belief against homosexuality. Good news in light of the killing of a Pakistani minority minister who refused to prosecute Christians. Good news, indeed.

So while Christ-followers pray for Westboro members to examine their hearts and words, we express our thanks to God that Westboro is still able, in this country, to reveal even uncharitable hearts and express even hurtful words without repercussion.

A Smorgasbord of Dysfunction

Wisconsin has been known in the rest of the country for one particular foodstuff: cheese.

Now it is not so much one homogeneous block of curdled milk product (whether hole-y, or bleu, or moldy), so much as it is a veritable cornucopia of public dysfunction.

A buffet of buffoonery, if you will.

The dust-up caused by Governor Scott Walker’s attempt to reign in public spending has revealed in one place, at one time, the virtual inanity of thought in no less then four (4) separate spheres: State legislature, unions, public education, and the media.

Democrat legislators fled the State to avoid giving Republicans — who hold the majority after recent elections — the ability to vote on legislation that the Democrats don’t like. They have, in effect, blocked the democratic process, while at the same time they and their supporters in the streets claim to be promoting the democratic process.

Unions representing public employees are encouraging the defeat of Gov. Brown’s collective-bargaining restrictions, asserting that they are interested in “working people” — working people who, with salary and benefits, reportedly earn over $100,000 per year on the public dole.

Teachers claiming to do nothing but labor “for the children” are calling in “sick” — complete with faked doctor excuses — to join street protests and State capitol sit-ins, apparently unaware that the act of abandoning the classroom to argue for salary and union power is not quite consistent with an interest in kids’ learning.

The media, reporting on the kerfuffle, describes the event as “Cairo coming to Madison” (if your teacher was ‘sick’ that day in your Government class, Madison is the capitol of Wisconsin). Really?

This would be quite amusing, if it did not spell such trouble for public life. It seems that integrity and honesty are in short supply, while greed and self-interest are abundant.

Seek Risk or Seek Christ and Put All “At Risk”

Dear Pastor,

I’m looking for your guidance and direction in leading me, my family and the other sheep of the church from a comfortable life of Christianity into one with risk and adventure

Dear Church Member,

Hmm…I know what you mean. But we should not seek risk and adventure for its own sake, but instead seek to follow Christ. What I mean is, following Christ is sometimes mundane. That is, your following Christ at this point in your life includes working to provide diapers and bottles, and late-night feedings.

Others following Christ might include helping children with math, offering guidance in dating relationships, or the seemingly unfruitful exercise of leading the family in home devotions.

It might be better for us to speak of putting all we have “at risk” for the sake of following Christ. That is, should following Christ require it, we are willing to lose reputation, standing, security, possessions.

Risk and adventure for some might mean traveling to a closed country to establish a Christian church, where what is placed at risk is the attachment of head to body.

We might be able to do some of that. But to be faithful with big risk far away, we should be faithful with smaller, “less risky”, risk close at home.

For instance, adventure might include opening your home to troubled kids in your neighborhood, inviting skeptical and critical neighbors over to eat, going door-to-door to meet your neighbors and tell them why you are on earth living down the street from them.

Risk might include forging relationships across racial divides, providing mercy relief to homeless or jobless or thankless or those society deems ‘worthless’, and repeating the gospel to those we know think they know or don’t want to know.

Risk, as it were, might be leaving a large church with all the amenities to be part of a church plant with nothing but borrowed hymnals, the preached Word, and love for the lost.

Your desire is consistent with Christ’s admonition that whoever wishes to follow him must “deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow” Jesus. So much of culture, our flesh, and the devil instead suggest that we affirm ourselves, protect our lives, and control Jesus.

Lay your life — with all that it means — at the foot of the cross and he will direct your steps, whether they lead next door to face the ridicule of the village atheist, or around the world to face executioner’s blade.

Your Pastor

Interpreting parables: the prodigal

In Luke 15 Jesus tells the famous parable of “The Prodigal Son.” The younger son demands his inheritance early, wastes it, then returns to the father, groveling to be treated like a servant. The father welcomes him lovingly, returning honor to him, while the older son grits his teeth in anger that the younger son was accepted.

Everyone focuses on the younger son and the father’s love for him.
It is a great picture of a father eagerly accepting a son he thought was lost, even though the son’s actions caused him great pain. We like to imagine this is how God receives sinners. And, to a degree, our imagining would be accurate.

There are two problems with our typical treatment of the story.

First, we leave out the older brother. A key component of interpreting parables is to look for the reason Jesus told them. Though it doesn’t happen always, on many occasions the author who recorded the event tells us why the parable was given. In Luke 15:1-3, we are told why Jesus told the parable of “The Older Brother.” Scribes and Pharisees were out of sorts because Jesus ate with ‘sinners.’ Verse 3 says ‘so he told them this parable.’

Luke actually records three: the lost sheep, the lost coin, and “The Older Brother.” All three emphasize that there is joy when things thought to be lost were found again. But the point of the telling is in 15:25-32, where the actions and attitudes of the older brother are recorded. He despised his father for glorying in the younger son’s return, because he (the older) had always been there, dutifully obeying the father though he apparently did so with no love in his heart.

Jesus was equating the older brother’s hatred with that of the scribes and Pharisees, who thought that ‘sinners’ were not worthy to receive grace. The parable is still hard-hitting today, when many of us look down on those we think are not worthy of mercy, or to hear the gospel, or to receive our time and energy.

Second, we treat the story as an evangelistic tool. That is, we tell the story of the younger son with a view to persuading men to repent and return to God. It is true that the story contains a marvelous picture of a loving father who welcomes home a wayward son, with all its facets of unconditional love and forgiveness. But a crucial element is missing: substitution.

Our sin separates us from God, like the younger son’s greed and waste separated him from the father. But even if we recognized that fact, and wanted to return to God, God would not — indeed, could not — accept us merely on our desire, no matter how sincere. In God’s economy, our sin incurs a debt against his honor that must be satisfied, and because we cannot satisfy it, there must be One who can. In fact, God provides One who can, and Jesus lived a substitutionary life and died a substitutionary death to provide a life of obedience we couldn’t live and to die the death we couldn’t survive.

Is “The Older Brother” a good story of forgiveness? Sure. But the point of the story, as told by Jesus, was to jab us in the eye and make us repent for feelings of superiority over those we consider worse ‘sinners’ than ourselves.

God sends the promised Lord

In Mark 1:1-13, the gospel writer introduces us to the “gospel of Jesus Christ.”

His first step is to recall Old Testament prophecy regarding God’s promise to send a messenger to prepare the way before the Lord/LORD (the Old Testament passages use both terms). So we have both a promise from God that he will send the Lord, and also a promise from Him to the Lord that he will prepare the way.

In comes the vivid imagery of John the Baptizer, dressed in camel fur and eating bugs in the desert. Obviously, from the text, he is the messenger preparing the way. But how? And why would the Lord come from God into the desert?

John prepares the way by baptizing people and preaching repentance for the forgiveness of sins. These are radical departures from the norm for Israel: baptism was for Gentiles and Israel secured forgiveness (atonement) through the sacrifice of animals. John’s preaching included the admonition that there was ‘one greater’ who would baptize with the Holy Spirit.

Then appears Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee: a nobody from nowhereville. He comes to the desert and gets baptized by John in the Jordan, just like everyone else. Could this be the ‘one greater’? Certainly not. But Mark confirms Jesus’ status by recording what he saw: the heavens opening, the Spirit descending, heaven talking. Then a curious thing happens: Jesus is expelled to the desert.

If everyone was in the desert already listening to John, how bad must it be if you are expelled from there to the desert?

Mark doesn’t leave us wondering at Jesus’ status, though. Even while he is in the wilderness being tempted, angels are tending to him.

So in Mark’s introduction we have Old Testament prophecy regarding the messenger and the Lord; John’s appearance and prophecy that ‘one greater’ was coming; the ‘one greater’ would baptize with the Holy Spirit; Jesus of Nazareth is baptized by John and baptized (to a degree) by the Holy Spirit; Jesus’ baptism is attended by eschatalogically significant events of heavens opening and heaven (God) speaking; Jesus is personally attended by angels.

Jesus of Nazareth is the promised Messiah (Christ), but not only is he flesh and blood — nobody from nowhereville — he is the Son of God, a kinship confirmed by miraculous and prophetic signs