Category: Luke (Page 19 of 25)

Be Careful What You Ask For

“Be careful what you ask for…”

You’ve heard that before, right? Maybe you’ve even said it before. “Be careful what you ask for…”

Why?

“…because you just might get it.”

If my understanding of salvation is correct, God’s Holy Spirit is transforming us, changing us into the image of Christ. “Christ in us” is our hope of glory. We are being transformed “into the image of Christ with ever increasing glory.” Paul calls this “being saved.” It’s a process. It’s a journey. It’s a gradual becoming.

And it involves suffering.

Jesus made it plain: “All men will hate you because of me” (Matthew 10:22).

“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first” (John 15:18).

Paul knew it, too: “Every one who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12).

See, we don’t normally think this way. We preach and teach, we believe and confess that if the whole world acted more like Jesus everybody would love everybody. If we thought and behaved more like our Lord, people would love us and be attracted to us. The Scriptural truth and the ultimate reality is that if we become more like Jesus, people will actually hate us. It’s unavoidable. If you want a safe, untroubled, comfortable life free from danger, then stay away from Jesus! The danger and risk and exposure to suffering increases in proportion to the depth of our relationship with the Christ.

Maybe this is why we sit back and settle for a casual relationship with Christ and just routine religion in the church. It’s safe at most churches. And, the way most of us do it, it’s actually pretty popular to be a Christian and go to church. As long as we’re pursuing the same goals and values and uphold the same ideals as everybody else in the world, even if we put a Christian label on it, the world’s cool with us. As long as our Christianity looks like the American Dream, we’re not going to have many problems.

But Jesus says, “Everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher” (Luke 6:40).

Our Teacher was mocked and beaten and ridiculed and persecuted and betrayed and murdered. He suffered and sacrificed and bled and died. Do we really want to be like him?

“It has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him but also to suffer for him” (Philippians 1:29).

Peter says we shouldn’t be surprised when it happens. Paul says we should consider it a joy. Scripture upholds that suffering is a gift. Christ gives us a gift — suffering. It’s a blessing. It’s a grace. It’s transformational. It’s life; eternal life. It’s discipleship; being like Jesus. Sanctification; being changed. Salvation; being saved.

Make me a servant; Lord, make me like you.

Be careful what you ask for.

Peace,

Allan

The MESSiah

Are you ashamed of your family tree? If you think you’re embarrassed by the people to whom you’re related, get a load of Jesus’ relatives! The Gospel of Matthew’s genealogy of our Savior is astounding in its ugliness.

There’s Tamar. Tamar? Oh, yeah, right. She posed as a temple prostitute on the side of the road to entice her father-in-law into an incestuous encounter. She hasn’t been on the Christmas card list now for years.

Salmon, the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab. Rahab? Yeah, you probably know her better by her last name: The Harlot. Rahab, the pagan, idol-worshiping, bacon-loving, Canaanite harlot.

Ruth the Moabitess. Umm… doesn’t God’s law prohibit all Moabites from marrying into his chosen nation? Isn’t the penalty for that something like death and destruction for ten generations?

Bathsheba’s in the list, identified as the wife of Uriah the Hittite. The wording serves to remind us again that she wasn’t rightfully David’s bride and that Uriah was another one of these unclean foreigners in the linage of our Lord.

Look, there’s no pattern of righteousness in the genealogy of Jesus. Sinners galore and them some more! Luke’s genealogy traces Jesus’ line all the way back to Adam, the original sinner. Bad kings. Bad fathers. Even the good kings and heroes in Jesus’ family tree are very capable of dark deeds — lying, murder, adultry, idol worship. We know the awful stories by heart. This is not a fitting genealogy for the Holy Son of God!

Actually, it’s the perfect genealogy for the Son of God.

This long list of good and bad, Jews and Gentiles, righteous and sinners is so awkward. It’s startling in its honesty. Nobody’s trying to cover anything up here. What’s astonishing is that God looks right at this mess and he jumps right into the big middle of it. He joins it. He embraces it. He becomes part of it in order to redeem us.

I have no doubt that whatever you’re doing this weekend for Christmas is going to involve some kind of family time. And I’m certain that during this family time you’ll be reminded of some of the weirdness of your relatives. Some of the problems. Some of the mess. You might be dealing with a brand new mess that has just been revealed. Or your family might exist in the middle of several, on-going, interconnected messes that make life just absolutely miserable.

Somehow, our gracious God saw value and glory through the mess. He looked at our sins and failures and saw some worth. He didn’t shy away from associating with it. He joined it without hesitation. And he saved it. 

To have eyes like our Father is to see that same beauty in the cousins and uncles and aunts and in-laws we’re sharing meals with this weekend. Don’t avoid the issues. Jump into the middle of the mess with everything you’ve got. These are fallen people, made by God in the image of God for God’s divine purpose. They are all children of God. Ask God today to give you the vision and the strength to see your messed up family the way he sees it. And allow God to work through you to redeem it.

Peace,

Allan

The Gospel is for All!

It’s sunny and 22-degrees in Amarillo as I’m penning this post. That’s a full twenty degrees warmer than it was this time yesterday. Oh, yeah. We haven’t been above the freezing mark in nearly four full days. And it has been an adventure. I got stuck in the snow and ice on the way to work Monday morning going around that uphill curve at Hillside and Criss to I-27. The fire department had to push me out. I wasn’t the only one; there were five or six other cars stuck on that hill and they were in the beginning stages of shutting the street down. But it was still a little embarrassing. Then yesterday morning, the van wouldn’t start. The battery was shot. Thankfully, by the time I had the new battery in hand and was ready to install it, the temperature had warmed up to six degrees. You know what it’s like to be turning a bolt and bang your knuckles against a sharp metal plate in six degrees?

I need some weight in the back of my Ranger. I need a better pair of gloves. And maybe one of those George Costanza gortex coats like Kevin Schaffer wears. I’ll never understand how Greg Dowell walks around in this mess in those topsiders without socks. Or how Mark Love is good with just a T-shirt. It’s supposed to warm into the upper 30s later today. But I feel like this snow and ice is going to be with us through March.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Holy Scripture gives us a beautiful picture of the birth of Jesus. It’s a glorious masterpiece. Breath-taking in detail. Fascinating in theological imagery. One of the many, many things we’re clearly shown in that little stable in Bethlehem is that the good news of salvation from God in Christ is for everybody. Christ Jesus came for everybody. Everybody’s in on this good news.

Look at the manger scene in Scripture. Look at the people in the story. Young and old, rich and poor, male and female, blue collar shepherds and professional scholars, righteous and sinners, Jew and Gentile. God with us means God with all of us!

No exceptions. No fine print. No disclaimers or escape clauses or special qualifications. The angels proclaim that the good news of great joy is for all the people. And the portrait of the stable illustrates it beautifully.

I’ve heard all my life that the ground is level at the cross. Well, the ground is just as level at the manger. In the glory of the nativity, God shows us that we all belong to the same family. We’re all equally lacking and equally blessed. By becoming a human, God draws the entire human family to himself without any distinctions. The good news is that all who are baptized into Jesus are the same. There’s neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free.

God is the God of the universe. But he’s no elitist.

And when we give in to our impulse to avoid uncomfortable people or awkward situations, that’s not Christ-like. The most awkward and uncomfortable birth for the most exalted figure of Jesus Christ shows us and reminds us that the value and importance of life is found in life itself, not in all the things that come with life.

The Gospel is for all. Including the uncomfortable and the awkward. Like you. And me.

Peace,

Allan

Muttering

The religious leaders we see in Scripture are always forcing Jesus to defend himself and his mission. Jesus is welcoming the outcasts and eating with sinners. He’s associating with and accepting these people who just don’t measure up. Jesus is continually embracing these misfits, giving to them, serving them, teaching them, fellowshipping with them. And the established religion of the community couldn’t handle it. One of the main political and religious charges against Jesus that led to his execution was the fact that he “welcomes sinners and eats with them.” Luke 15 is just one of many places in the Gospels where we find that when Jesus associated with the marginalized, “the Pharisees and the teachers of the Law muttered.”

They muttered.

They mutter and grumble and complain among themselves. They do it behind Jesus’ back. They gripe under their breath. Because a religious person would never say these kinds of things out loud:

“Those people don’t speak English.”
“Those kind of people won’t give.”
“Their kids are not well-behaved.”
“Have you seen what they wear?”
“They’ll mess things up.”
“They’re on welfare.”
“He just got out of prison.”
“She has AIDS.”
“He cusses.”
“She smokes.”
“We have to protect our kids.”
“We have to be careful.”
“They should probably go somewhere else.”

Church people don’t talk like that out loud, right? A religious person would never say stuff like that in public. Not from the pulpit, not in a Bible class, not in an elders meeting.

No. Religious people mutter these kinds of things under their breath. Among themselves. In private.

If we’re following our Savior — and we are! — we have to recognize that Jesus came with everything he had to seek and to save the lost. And the lost responded to Jesus, not because he catered to them or compromised his message, but because he cared for them. He loved them. He understood their needs and helped them while the religious leaders criticized them and kept their distance.

Jesus strongly rebukes that attitude. His every word, his every deed rebukes that self-centered mindset. Jesus invested his time and energy in sinners. He associated freely with them. He ate with them. He became personally and intimately involved in their messy lives and desperate struggles. Jesus pursued sinners with such enthusiasm and commitment that the religious community questioned his character and his motives. But he kept seeking and saving the lost. With everything he had. And then he died for them.

We don’t ever dare make fun of, poke fun at, or look down on any person made in the image of our God.

Ever.

We don’t mutter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been to a couple of Rangers playoff games at the Ballpark in Arlington, one in ’96 and another in ’99. I was there when they clinched the division title in ’99. I’ve been to important division games in September. I’ve been in the stands for weekend games against the Yankees when the Rangers were rallying to take a lead in the 8th inning and winning it in the 9th. And I’ve thought many times that there’s no way the Ballpark could ever be louder or as exciting as this.

Until Napoli’s two-run double with the bases loaded in the 8th inning against the Cardinals Monday night in Game Five of the World Series. I’ve never been a part of anything quite so loud and exciting at the Ballpark. It was improbable. It was emotional. Magical.

From Roger Staubach’s ceremonial first pitch to Feliz’s last, it was a nail-biter. Nerve-wracking. Gut-wrenching. It seemed that St. Louis had runners at second and third in every inning. Every pitch was do or die. Every Cardinal at-bat went full count. And Texas couldn’t do anything right. Murphy and Moreland were booting balls, C. J. couldn’t find the plate, and nobody could get on base. That 2-1 deficit seemed like 10-1. Or 100-1. It was awful.

Which made it so much better once Napoli finally came through with his double and then chased Berkman to first base an inning later to end it.

We hugged and high fived everybody in the home run porch. We took pictures. We cringed when Darren Oliver came in and exhaled in relief when he left. We chanted Napoli’s name and laughed at the Ron Washington videos. We ran into Russ Garrison and his family. And we ate for the cycle. It was an awesome night! Thank you to Brian Gray for scoring the ticket. And for being the most superstitious baseball fan I’ve ever known.

 

Game Six tonight. In the cold and the rain in St. Louis. Colby Lewis has the stuff on the road to give the Rangers their first ever World Series title in their 51-year history. Start the DVRs.

Go Rangers.

Allan

It’s A Problem, Right?

“Cruz Control!”

Nellie is dealing, man! His perfect strike from right field in the 8th and his three-run jimmy jack to put it away in the 11th have given the Rangers complete command of this ALCS. Young finally drove in a run and appears to be slowly returning to form. Kinsler’s running the bases like a seasoned veteran. Mike Napoli’s still red-hot; his throw to nail Jackson, coupled with his catch and block at the plate on Cabrera, were things of sheer beauty and grace. And watching Wash running in place in the dugout as Hamilton rounded third made everything seem just as fun as last year.

And: Is it a cobra or a sitting duck? What is that thing? Whatever it is, it’s not as cool as the claw and antlers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jesus and the Church today don’t attract the same people. That’s a problem, right? While he was ministering on this earth in our flesh, Jesus seemed to attract a certain kind of people. But his Church today seems to repel those kinds of people and attract others.

In just about every Gospel account, anytime Jesus met up with a religious leader or a well-respected pillar of the community, they were offended by the Son of God. They were repulsed by Jesus. Threatened, even. But those who were on the margins of society, those who had no power or status or wealth, were intrigued by Jesus. They were attracted to him. The outcast is always the one who connects with Jesus. Those are the ones coming to Christ. The city rulers and “church” leaders were the ones trying to put Jesus down, trying to kill him.

Our experience today seems to be just the opposite.

Timothy Keller, in his little book The Prodigal God, speaks to this as he compares and contrasts the two lost sons in the Luke 15 account of Jesus’ most well-known parable. (What? You’ve never read Timothy Keller? Oh, my. Look, as soon as you’re finished reading and commenting on this blog post, the very moment you’re done, click here and buy Keller’s The Reason For God. And when it arrives, read it!) The younger son types were always attracted to Jesus while the older brother types were cynical and suspicious. But that’s not the way things are in our American churches today:

“Jesus’ teaching consistently attracted the irreligious while offending the Bible-believing, religious people of his day. However, in the main, our churches today do not have this effect. The kind of outsiders Jesus attracted are not attracted to our contemporary churches, even our most avant-garde ones. We tend to draw conservative, buttoned-down, moralistic people. The licentious and liberated or the broken and marginal avoid church. That can only mean one thing. If the preaching of our ministers and the practice of our parishioners do not have the same effect on people that Jesus had, then we must not be declaring the same message that Jesus did. If our churches aren’t appealing to younger brothers, they must be more full of elder brothers than we’d like to think.”

What kind of  a message are we sending when we relegate the poor of our community to a back room downstairs? What are we saying when the Hispanic church can meet in our building, but only after we’re finished with it? What do we communicate when the outcast feels more warmly welcomed at Wal-Mart and McDonald’s than he does at church? What’s the “gospel” we proclaim when we’re quick to hand a guy a five dollar bill for lunch but avoid like the plague the thought of ever actually inviting that guy to our homes for dinner?

That’s a problem, right?

If we ever came to the conclusion that acting like our Lord — doing Christ-like things in Christ-like ways — was the way to go and acting the opposite of our Lord was wrong, then things might change. But none of this will ever change a long as we think it’s OK the way it is. That’s a problem, right?

Peace,

Allan

Faithful Among the Stumps

Of all the really cool stuff in Isaiah — the servant songs, the allusions to Christ, the prophesies about the Messiah, the comfort passages — the words at the end of chapter six about preaching to people who refuse to listen are the most quoted in the New Testament.

Jesus uses Isaiah’s words in Matthew 13 after telling the parable of the four soils. Same thing in Mark 4 and Luke 8. Jesus says, man, this is how Isaiah must have felt.

In John 12, right after Jesus predicts his death, God’s voice thunders down from heaven for the benefit of the people in the crowds. But they’re not listening. They don’t understand. They refuse to change. And, again, Jesus uses the Isaiah 6 passage to account for the blind eyes and stubborn hearts.

Paul’s near the end of his life in Acts 28, under house arrest in Rome. And he’s failed to make a dent in the sight or the hearing or the hearts of the religious leaders who’ve come to hear him preach. Nothing. And he quotes the Isaiah 6 passage. Same thing in Romans 11. “It’s still happening!” Paul says, “To this very day!” Paul’s a failed preacher in pretty good company.

The point of the last half of Isaiah 6, and the reason the passage is repeated so many times in the early history of God’s Church, is that we are called to be faithful to our Father and to his mission, regardless of where it takes us. No matter how bad it gets, no matter how many people reject the truth, we are called to keep preaching the truth.

The point of Isaiah 6:8-13 is that if we trust God, if we’ll remain faithful to him, he’ll do something with those closed eyes and plugged up ears. Those stumps (Isaiah 6:13). Isaiah and Jesus and the apostles are reminding us that God does his best work in the middle of a desolate field of worthless stumps.

God created the universe out of nothing. He raised a mighty nation out of a 90-year-old barren womb. He pulled a young boy from the bottom of a well and made him a powerful ruler of the most important nation in the world. He uses the death of a preacher and the persecution of his Church to spread the Good News of salvation from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth. He delivered forgiveness and righteousness to all mankind through a cruel wooden cross.

There’s more happening in horrible situations than we ever realize. These awful circumstances are holy. God does holy things with faithful people in a field full of stumps.

“The holy seed is its stump.” ~Isaiah 6:13

Peace,

Allan

« Older posts Newer posts »