Lent 2016, Day 20: February 29 (Luke 10:38-11:26)

As Jesus and the disciples continue on their pilgrimage, they move from village to village – presumably along the path previously scouted by the 72. Thanks to those early efforts, Jesus has a place to stay here: the house of Martha.

Jesus uses this rare moment of relative privacy to teach the disciples, many of whom are “sitting at His feet” (a euphemism for being a disciple), including a recent addition to the group – a woman (Mary, to be exact). Her participation in the group has raised an objection from a most unexpected quarter: their hostess, who happens to be Mary's sister.

Now, in Martha’s defense, volunteering her home to serve as ground zero for this stage of the campaign was a remarkably generous thing to do. It’s clear, however, that she has bitten off more than she can chew. Thanks to that, her reputation as a hostess is in serious jeopardy (family honor is at stake), but she can’t seem to convince anyone to share her point of view.

Martha feels that because Mary is present, she ought to be in the kitchen. Mary ought to be helping around the house. Mary ought to be doing the myriad things that need doing in order to make Jesus’ stay comfortable and admirable in the eyes of others. But Mary left home a while back (perhaps she sought out Jesus when the two disciple-scouts visited her village), and she’s only here now as a member of the larger group. Mary’s just passing through on her way to Jerusalem along with Jesus and the rest of disciples (scandal!).

Martha appeals directly to Jesus. After all, everything she is doing is for Him, isn’t it? Shouldn’t her sister be helping her serve Him? Doesn’t He care that Martha is inconvenienced?

Jesus, however, isn’t buying any of it. He sees her busy-ness, her desire to impress, to exceed expectations (and gather praise). He sees that Martha’s insistence on Mary’s assistance is strictly in her own best interest. In short, Mary’s help will go a long way to making sure that the little things get taken care of and everything goes smoothly. This, in turn, will help make Martha look good in the eyes of her guests – and her community – and allow her the freedom to come out of the kitchen where she can receive their praise and applause.

“Wow, Martha,” says Jesus. “You’ve certainly got a lot going on – cake in the oven, lamb on the grill. Is that mint jelly I smell? There's sweet new wine, and these olives are truly top-notch. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get all these details just right. It pains me to tell you, however, that none of this is necessary. We just need a quick bite for lunch and we’re on our way. As for Mary, she has chosen to serve Me by following Me – not feeding Me – and I will not deprive her of that joy.”

Somewhere in the room a Pharisee is hissing. “Teaching a woman is a scandal!” he snaps. In fact, according to the Talmud, Anyone who teaches his daughter Torah teaches her tiflut – a difficult word to translate (and not a very nice thing to say). 

Radical, God-is-for-all Jesus gives the Pharisee the best possible response by teaching His disciples – including Mary – how to pray.

Prayer is central to the campaign. Over the past months, the disciples have faithfully trooped after Jesus from town to town. They’ve seen a lot of amazing things during this time – exorcisms, healings, resurrections, etc. And yet for all that, the campaign remains humble and anchored to reality thanks to one thing: Jesus’ prayer life.

In situation after situation, Jesus has consistently prepared Himself by praying – most frequently overnight, as Jesus seems to consider prayer just as important as sleep. Jesus will often fast from food, sleep and fellowship. He will not, however, go without prayer.

“Teach us the trick!” the disciples demand (like a flock of stubborn kids at a magic-themed birthday party). “We want to show our friends and family what we’ve been learning all this time.”

“It’s not a trick,” says Jesus. “It’s an attitude of the heart. If your heart is right, the words don’t matter. Follow the forms, honor and respect the intent, and God will take care of the rest.”

Years later, Paul will tell the church in Rome something very similar. “The words don’t matter,” Paul will say, “because the Spirit within us cries out on our behalf.”

“Acknowledge the Father. He is above all and in all. He is holy and sovereign. Rejoice that His will be done – regardless of whether or not you understand it. Ask the Father for your daily needs, for He is the source of all you have and hold.”

“Realize that God is your greatest need, and draw near to Him by forgiving others. Release, let go and discard all the bitterness, disappointment, failed expectations, insults, slights and hurts that you have cataloged against others. Clear away these obstacles between you and your neighbor – regardless of who is to blame – and you can ask God to show the same mercy to you.”

“Is that it?” the disciples ask. “Don’t you think that’s a little basic?”

Jesus chuckles, “It’s all in the wrist. It just takes practice.”

“Will you show us? Teach us?”

“Of course I will,” says Jesus. “And I know just the place in Jerusalem to do it. There’s a little garden there I love to visit. It’s called Gethsemane.”

Lent 2016, Day 19: February 28 (Luke 10:25-42)

And behold a certain lawyer stood up and tested Him, saying, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"

So begins what is, perhaps, Jesus' most famous parable: the Good Samaritan. At the time, however, that title would have been laughed at and derided. The crowd might very well have protested, "The only 'good' Samaritan is a dead Samaritan!" or, more simply, "That's an oxymoron."

It all starts out innocently enough. A lawyer or scribe stands up and asks Jesus a question in the classical fashion. The lawyer is delighted when it appears that Jesus is willing to play ball – lobbing the question back and forth between them like a lazy game of lawn tennis. It's a little like watching an infomercial where the host and the spokesman ask each other obvious questions.

"What can I do?"

"What do you read in the law?" 

"Love God, love my neighbor."  

"Go then and do likewise."

"And who is my neighbor?" the lawyer's voice goes up at the end of the question because he fully expects Jesus to respond with the "correct" answer. Unfortunately, it seems that no one has bothered to give Jesus a heads up on the "correct" answer because he's suddenly heading off for the weeds.

We know what Jesus is going to tell him, but what was the lawyer expecting Jesus to tell him? It's the disconnect between these two things that brings Jesus to again call the people around Him racists and hypocrites. Not only do you not help strangers, says Jesus, you don't even help your brothers.

The Pharisees, scribes and Sadducees made their reputations and their careers discussing the law and what it meant. Over the centuries, this discussion – considered an oral Torah – would eventually be recorded and collected into what is now the Talmud. It's this tradition – and subsequent document – that Isaiah decries ("their worship of me is nothing but man-made rules") and Jesus detests.

The Talmud is not a scriptural document but a commentary on scripture. As such, it gives a lot of insight into what the Pharisees and Sadducees thought and believed about the law and daily life. In it, the rabbis wrote that compassion, mercy and even basic assistance could be lawfully withheld on the basis of racial identity. One was not permitted to push a "foreigner" into a pit, but one was not required to pull him out, either. It's this attitude that Jesus challenges here in a most convicting manner.

A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho.

Right away, the audience is told that this "certain man" is very likely an important man (after all, the thieves take his clothes so they must have been expensive). He is also quite possibly a priest who has completed his tour of duty within the temple and is now headed back home, down the mountain to Jericho – the City of Priests. As he travels from Jerusalem ("the Vision of Peace") on his way to "His Fragrance" (a nod to the priestly offerings of incense and prayer), he is waylaid by thugs. He must traverse a dangerous world to get from one idyllic setting to another and, for whatever reason, he has fallen victim to violence – despite his status as one of God's most favored (a son of Abraham).

As the man, left for dead, lays there, along comes someone that we know for a fact is a priest. He, too, has probably just completed his tour of duty within the temple and is now headed home to Jericho. In other words, he may be closely related to the man on the ground. He doesn't bother to check, however, because he is too busy heading for the other side of the road in order to avoid him.

"Not my problem," says the priest, "and it certainly couldn't be anyone I know. I only know righteous people, and this poor schmuck is obviously suffering (and rightly so!) because God has condemned him for his sins. I will think about that and praise God for my righteousness and my faithfulness! I thank God I'm not like that man who so plainly has received his just desserts at the hands of evil men!"

Next, a Levite (a "man of My heart") comes along. He, too, is likely someone who has just completed his tour of duty within the temple – perhaps as a guard at the Beautiful Gate – and is now headed home to Jericho. He, too, could very well be related to the man on the ground. And just like his distant cousin walking ahead of him, he notices the man but heads to the other side of the road in short order. 

"Nothing to see here!" says the Levite. "And it's clearly not my problem – or my responsibility – because the priest ahead of me – God's representative to the people – passed him by. Priests know best! If he didn't feel a need to help, I'm certainly under no obligation to do so either."

So far, we are two men out with a dying man on third. Up at bat? A Samaritan who just happens by. He's not on his way to Jerusalem (he's not allowed in the temple), and he's certainly not on his way to Jericho (why go where you're definitely not wanted?). Instead, Luke indicates he is using the same road while on business – an early business trip.

"Oh no," says the Samaritan. "I don't know you, but this could happen to me or even a member of my family (thank You God for Your grace). You're obviously suffering, let me help you if I can. Let me bind up your wounds and take you someplace safe where you can recover."

The Samaritan then expends time and money by putting the injured man on his own animal (presumably a donkey) and bringing him to an inn where he takes care of him. In addition to binding up his wounds, he has undoubtedly clothed him and fed him. The next day, he gives the injured man some space and an opportunity to recover his dignity (rescued by a Samaritan?! What would the neighbors think?) by making a side arrangement with the innkeeper. Not only does he give the innkeeper two days' wages to board the man but he puts his reputation on the line by promising the innkeeper that he will be back and will repay him if he happens to spend more. In essence, he's just handed the stranger – and the innkeeper – a blank check.

It is, quite obviously, a home run on the part of the Samaritan.

Meanwhile, the lawyer has been left hanging, standing there twiddling his thumbs as Jesus goes on and on with this ridiculous story about a virtuous (the nerve!) Samaritan of all things. Undoubtedly, he wishes he had sat down right away or snuck off with the rest of the Pharisees.

Jesus, however, isn't done with him just yet.

"So," says Jesus, "out of these three men -- the priest, the Levite and the Samaritan -- who do you think proved himself to be a neighbor to the man who was robbed?"

The name sticks in the lawyer's throat so he talks around it. "Ah, ahem, uh, the one who showed him mercy," he stutters.

Personalizing and repeating His earlier admonition, Jesus says, "You go, and do likewise."

(Tell a Jew to act like a Samaritan?! The nerve!)

Lent 2016, Day 18: February 27 (Luke 10:1-24)

Finally, think the disciples, now we're getting somewhere.

 
Things are moving, things are shaking! We're bringing in more people, sending good people out. Over 1 billion served!

The disciples perk up as Jesus starts to make plans and arrangements for what seems to be a march on Jerusalem. He organizes 36 teams of two and gives them travel orders and instructions on how to prepare the way for His journey to the capital.

These are not, however, scouts for the revolution or advance troops for an invasion. Like John the Baptist, they are preparing the way of the Lord through the spiritual wilderness that is the nation of Israel. They are calling the people's attention to the first steps of the Via Dolorosa miles from Jerusalem. The way of sorrow starts here and now – when Jesus knows fully where He is going and why and yet still continues – not after Pilate crowns Him with thorns and blood.

James and John have already visited a Samaritan village as part of this effort. When the villagers reject Jesus' coming because of where He's going, James and John show their racism by asking Jesus if they should "tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them."

The reason for the refusal is pretty well known, so Luke does not mention it. The villagers are not prescient, nor do they believe Jesus has a death wish. They're refusing Jesus because He is going to Jerusalem for Passover, and the Samaritans are still sore about not being allowed to help rebuild the temple in the days of Ezra and Nehemiah. It's a 500-year-old grudge that's not going away any time soon – an old, old argument that just won't die.

Jesus rebukes them and rightly so. "We don't have time for that," he says, "there's a plentiful harvest waiting in the fields. We're looking to hire more laborers – not fire them (and certainly not literally)."

"You don't have time to waste on arguing about ancient history or indulging in tit-for-tat rejection and recrimination," Jesus continues. "Get over it! Move on to the next village, reach out for the lost! If they, too, reject you then testify against them by wiping the dust off your feet and telling them 'This was your chance, and this was your choice. But know this: the Kingdom of God came near to you.' Move on!"

"And another thing," Jesus adds. "What's up with the racial bias? Do you truly think the Jews have a monopoly on righteousness and that the Gentiles have one on sin? No, I tell you. Remember Sodom? Nasty place, nasty doings, eh? Are you offended? Well guess what? At the judgment, the men of Sodom – destroyed by fire for their pride and all the sin that resulted – will rise up and testify that they did not have that same chance or choice to repent. In that day, it will be more tolerable for Gentile Sodom than for Jewish Capernaum, Chorazin or Bethsaida – cities that knew Me, heard Me and rebuffed Me. Think on that."

"Don't take these things personally," urges Jesus, "but don't take them lightly either. Remember: whoever receives a child in My name receives Me and My Father. Whoever hears you, hears Me. And whoever despises and rejects you because of what he hears, despises and rejects Me and My Father. Don't be angry that they have rejected you – be sorrowful that they have rejected God."

It's at this point – a most opportune time – that the remainder of the 72 disciples return with joy, reporting on how it feels to wield power through His name.

They're all high on success and it's another bittersweet moment for Jesus because He is already looking back on it with nostalgia and comparing it to other distant moments.

"You are so blessed, so favored," He tells them. "There have been prophets – Moses, Elijah, Jeremiah and Isaiah – and righteous kings – David, Uzziah and Josiah – who were told of these things. They longed to see what you are seeing, hear what you are hearing. I rejoice with you."

Relish this moment, says Jesus, remember it well. Because you will not see its like again.

Lent 2016, Day 17: February 26 (Luke 9:46-62)

On top of the mountain, Peter, James and John have seen the kingdom of God. At the mountain's foot, they – and the crowd – are astonished at the majesty of God as Jesus heals the boy and returns him to his father. It is a high point of the ministry. Yet even as the crowd and the disciples marvel at everything he's doing, Jesus tells them plainly, "Listen, and remember: I am about to be betrayed and go to My death for your sake."

The disciples are confused.

"He's doing it again…you know…the I'm-gonna-die thing…"

Luke tells us that they do not understand and that the saying "was concealed from them so that they might not perceive it."

Why, then, does Jesus keep telling them?

Jesus knows that it is concealed from them because, if they knew, they would not (could not) stay the course. They would not (could not) make it from the foot of the mountain to the foot of the cross whether for fear, faith or failure.

Jesus, on the other hand, knows full well what is going to happen – who will betray Him and for how much, who will desert Him and how He will die – and still He stays the course. He tells the disciples what's going to happen so that they will one day understand that He laid down His life with complete knowledge of Judas' betrayal, the disciples' abandonment and Peter's triple denial. He wants them to know that while they – and we – were still sinners, Christ died for us.

In time, the knowledge will sober them, challenge them, and spur them on to lay down their lives for Him – to die every day to all the petty concerns of everyday life, the imagined slights and outright insults which are all outweighed and overwhelmed by His grace.

Like the disciples, we, too, are confused and overwhelmed when we realize the magnitude of His sacrifice. We are left knowing that nothing we can do will ever repay and nothing we can suffer will ever compare. How, then, are we to live?

Follow me knowing you have no home here, Jesus says. Leave the world and all its lies behind and keep looking forward, up ahead, to the city on the hill – the one at the foot of the cross.

Lent 2016, Day 16: February 25 (Luke 9:28-45)

It seems lately that sleep is a luxury the disciples can ill afford. Between the constant presence and intrusion of the crowd and the urgent pace set by Jesus, there’s just no time to sit back and grab a nap. What’s a bunch of hardworking fishermen to do?

Jesus pulls the three aside for a quick run up the mountain and a quiet time of prayer. Exhausted from the non-stop work of the last few weeks, Peter, James and John quickly and easily succumb to sleep while Jesus prays alone.

The low murmur of voices causes Peter to stir. Opening his eyes, he is immediately blinded by a glorious light. Three men – one dazzling white – are finishing a conversation and preparing to part company. And not just any three men: it’s Jesus, Moses and Elijah. And this isn’t just any conversation: they’re talking about Jesus’ Exodus.

Peter (kicking himself because he definitely just missed out on something major) tries to inject himself into their conversation and awkwardly blurts, “Gee, it’s a good thing us grunts are here. There’s three of us and three of you. How about each of us set up a tent for each of you?”

Before he can finish his thought, the mountain is enveloped in cloud (“Then the cloud covered the Tabernacle, and the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle.” Ex 40:34) and the very voice of God says, “Shut up Peter. Remember who you’re talking to – that’s my Son, and I could not be more pleased with Him.”

Luke says that Peter did not know what he was saying – but what if he did? What if he was offering to put up tents for Jesus, Moses and Elijah because he thought this was the new plan or, rather, that this was a literal intersection and fulfillment of prophecy concerning the promise of a Savior, the coming of a prophet like Moses, and the return of Elijah. What if Peter’s first thought upon opening his eyes was to scream, “Jackpot!”?

Whatever he knew and whatever his intent, he is rebuked and corrected once again (this time by the very voice of God). Closing and opening his eyes once more, Peter (and the other two disciples) are left with “just” Jesus. Are they disappointed we wonder?

If anything, they are unnerved by what they’ve seen. It’s clear they don’t understand it. Did this count as the return of Elijah as foretold? Did this count as the coming of the prophet like Moses? Afraid of asking stupid questions – and of receiving answers they cannot comprehend – the three remain somewhat subdued as they walk down the mountain in search of the other disciples. It’s only later (after they’ve received the gift of the Holy Spirit) that this experience will become more fully clear.

At the foot of the mountain is the crowd, demanding Jesus’ attention and healing. The crowd is losing patience with Jesus. He, for His part, is starting to return the favor.

Fully mindful of how the crowd will soon spit upon Him while they demand that Barabbas be released, Jesus names them faithless. Fully aware of how easily the crowd is swayed by the promise of fleeting, temporal things such as money and status – and how they have chosen these things over the free gift of eternal life – He names them twisted. And then, cryptically, He hints that His time is brief and that He will not bear with them much longer.

The father of a demon-possessed boy steps out from the crowd. He’s out shopping for a faith healer. For whatever reason – maybe he’s tired, maybe he’s burned out – the father sounds jaded and defeated, and he has little compassion for his son. There’s an underlying disrespectful tone to his plea – one to which Jesus immediately takes exception.

“Hey Teacher,” says the father, “I’m beggin’ ya to take a look at my kid, eh? You wouldn’t believe what I have to put up with – all the yelling, the spitting up, the shaking. I can’t take it. And this is my only kid, so what am I supposed to do? I was beggin’ your disciples to fix him but – just like I figured – they couldn’t do it. How’s about you give it a try?”

(If the disciples have any real grasp of the situation they should be standing there horrified. But because they don’t, they lean in to see what “trick” Jesus will use to fix “da kid” so they can prevent a repeat of their own failure to heal the boy.)

Simply, cleanly, quickly Jesus rebukes the unclean spirit, heals the boy and returns him to his father.

As Jesus raises the little boy to his feet, Peter considers the mountaintop visitors and what might have been a missed opportunity to electrify the nation. Slowly, he begins to realize that having “just” Jesus means far more than he could ever imagine.