Let’s get political, political

I’ve been working my way through Ken Bailey’s Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes (which I highly recommend). He had a section on Luke 13 which helped expand my view of this passage, and the mission of Jesus. I thought I’d share my conclusions with you.

Luke 13:1-3 tells a troubling tale: “There were some present at that very time who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. ² And he answered them, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? ³ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.“

In the past, I’ve always used this (and the following verses) as a biblical demonstration that God does not see some sin differently from others. However, Dr. Bailey drew my attention to the heinous situation described in verse 1, and the expectation of what the Messiah would do. Namely, the Messiah would be a political force: he would liberate the people of God. The land that Jesus lived in was an occupied land. Roman controlled it and overtaxed it to support its wars and culture that was in total opposition to God’s will. Luke 13:1 is a raw picture of what that occupation looked like.

Some Galileans had made the biblically required journey to Jerusalem for the Passover. While in the Temple offering sacrifices, some Roman troops (for whatever reason) decided to slaughter them so that their blood was mingled with the blood of their sacrificial offerings.

Think about that: they are celebrating the sacred festival of Passover that is a celebration of God liberating the Jews from their slavery to the Egyptians. While offering their sacrifices, in the Temple no less, Romans troops (who now control the Jews and their land) decide to slaughter some of the pilgrims.

The Jews were yearning for the liberator God promised them. He would defeat the oppressors and restore the kingdom to Israel. Even Jesus’ closest disciples expected him to do this–hence their question to Jesus after the resurrection. They aren’t expressing astonishment at his resurrection but wanting to know if now, finally, he is going to restore the kingdom to Israel (Acts 1:6). And here, in Luke 13 in bringing this question up to Jesus they are placing the question very clearly before him: what are you going to do about the Romans?

Jesus’ response is just as shocking: unless you repent you will perish just like those Galileans (13:3).

Jesus was (and is) the Messiah but his mission was not to be a political force and liberate the people of God from political oppression but to save them from their sins (Matthew 1:21).

I think in our present times (at least in America) this raises several relevant questions:

1. Do you believe Jesus is the Messiah?
2. Do you take your sins and forgiveness seriously?
3. Are you hoping for a political Messiah?
4. Do you care more about forgiveness and salvation or a political change in the country?

So here we are two thousand years after Jesus died and rose from the dead and I think there are a lot of people in America who consider themselves Christian but are still stuck in Luke 13:1. They are in essence saying, “Jesus, did you hear about the terrible things happening to our country? Did you hear the horrible thing X Politician said? Did you see the terrible law Y Politician proposed? Jesus, did you hear about [insert the most extreme, shocking example you can think of like they did in Luke 13:1]? Jesus, what are you going to do about it?

To which Jesus responds, “What am I going to do? Do you think you’re somehow better than they are? Do you not realize what a terrible sinner you are? If you don’t repent, you will perish. The problem isn’t what political party is in office or what politician is doing something offensive. The problem is inside of you. Why are you so concerned about the political direction of this country when you are on the broad path that leads to destruction?”

One in a Million

Good Friday has always held a special place in my heart. I can remember when I was still new to the faith, even on the fence and spectating more than believing, sneaking off from work to a Good Friday service (I used to work Friday nights) before heading back after its conclusion.

It was my favorite service when I was a pastor.

We had plans to attend one tonight and see my sister and niece sing in their choir but unfortunately, that didn’t happen. However, it didn’t happen for a good reason: we rather unexpectedly ended up with another dog for our family! That is a story for another time.

What I wanted to write about today, however, was the ordinary nature of the crucifixion.

There was nothing extraordinary about Jesus’ crucifixion. I know it can seem that way. When I thnk about it in my own personal devotions, it is very easy to picture only Jesus on the cross. Crucifixes adorn walls around the globe, but the crucifix isn’t simply depicting a generic victim, but Jesus.

Crucifixion happened all the time in ancient Rome.

There is a scene in The Chosen when Jesus and the disciples are entering a city and as they enter it there are people along the road who have been crucified. Everyone is passing by as if it is no big deal–because it wasn’t. Jesus pauses as if he is considering their fate and his future.

There is much I appreciate about the scene but on Good Friday there is one point I’d like to make: Rome crucified people every day.

When the rebellion of Spartacus was put down, 6,000 people were crucified in a day.

During the Jewish rebellion of 71 AD 500 people were crucified a day for months.

Why should it matter then, that one day in Jerusalem, several criminals were crucified including an itinerant rabbi?

Because that rabbi was not just any other man. And it was impossible for death to hold him.

The challenge of saying no

It is hard to say no to people. For most of my professional life, I’ve had a job where telling someone no is a regular part of my responsibilities. After years of doing it, sometimes multiple times daily, it never got easier.

I was thinking about this while reading Matthew 15:21-28: And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.” He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” And he answered, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

As I was reading this I was struck by the thought that it seems like Jesus is trying to talk himself out of helping this woman. He won’t answer her. When his disciples beg him to send her away, he assures them he is only there for Israel. But he doesn’t leave and he doesn’t send her away. Why not? Instead, he lets her keep talking and he continues to listen to her. Finally, he begins to speak with her and it isn’t long before he not only gives in; he praises her faith.

It seems like Jesus wants to tell her no–but he can’t. He can’t say no.

So very much, for so very little

There are two prayers in the New Testament that basically summarize my life of faith.

“I believe; help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

And,

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (Luke 18:13).

These two prayers have been on my mind a lot lately. In his book, Between Noon and Three, Capon says the second prayer is part of an unacceptable parable. I don’t like the direction he takes it but at the same time, I find I cannot disagree. [Sidebar: that is how it is with much of Capon’s writings. I find myself disagreeing but the more I read and look at Scripture (my authority for doctrine), the more I realize I have to agree.]

Jesus tells this parable about two men who go into the Temple to pray. One is a Pharisee. He is the ideal candidate for leadership in any church: he does not take advantage of the weak or those in a bad situation, he is a just person, and is faithful to his wife. His spiritual life is devout and he practices the spiritual disciplines. And best of all for many a pastor–he tithes on everything he gets (Luke 18:10-12). Sit in any nominating committee in a church and tell me this man doesn’t make it onto the shortlist of “someone to talk to, to gauge their interest.”

The other man is a tax collector who, while praying, wouldn’t look up to heaven. This is kind of like when a child has done something wrong and knows it and says sorry but is afraid to look you in the eye. His prayer, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.”

That’s it. Jesus says the second one went home justified.

Two questions.

1. Is justification forever or contingent upon weekly confession? Protestants, (which I count myself among), would joyfully state it is forever.
2. Do you think the tax collector’s life changed?

Think about the second one for a moment. This tax collector didn’t pull a Zaccheus and promised to pay everyone back. Do you think he went home to his household and announced, ‘good news, I’m no longer going to be a tax collector! Say goodbye to the life of luxury and power you are all used to!’ Or do you think the tax collector went back to the life that he had lived for years? The only life he knew. Based on the data of human experience, I’m willing to bet the tax collector went back to tax collecting.

Maybe this is why Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.” (Matthew 21:31).

The promises of the gospel make no sense. Why God should promise us so much for so very, very little, is something I will never understand. I could tell you it is because of his endless love or that he is the God of all grace but does that satisfy your deep confusion?

Perhaps the way God relates to sinners is a mystery. Maybe God’s tremendous offer of so much for so very little in return (a humble prayer every now and then? A mustard seed of faith? A plea for remembrance while hanging on the cross?) … is something I will never fully accept. And struggle to believe. But as a father once confessed to Jesus so long ago:

“I believe; help my unbelief”

The Chosen

I’m going to do something I don’t do very often: celebrate Christian media.

Currently streaming on Peacock is a television show about the life of Jesus called The Chosen. I saw it when I was browsing through what they had that was available and was intrigued enough to watch the trailer. I thought the trailer was not half bad. A couple days later, I decided I would give it a try.

It is excellent. I highly recommend it. The production quality is very good. The scripts are well written. As someone with a master’s in the subject I can tell you that there is clearly a lot of research going into the history and context of the time of Jesus. There are also a lot of creative liberality but that is okay: as Christians we do not believe that television shows are inspired, sola scriptura. But the imaginative backstories are plausible and so it has you re-considering some of the stories. One mark for me of whether something is good or not (when it comes to religion) is if after reading/seeing it, I have to go to my Bible and revisit the story in question to see if there is a detail there I hadn’t previously noticed. The Chosen has had me do that several times.

Also, I’ll just throw this out there: I don’t seem to be the only person who thinks this is a really good show. It has a 9.7 rating on IMDB.

The other night we watched the episode where Jesus calls Peter. Prior to calling Peter, while standing on his boat, Jesus taught the parable of the net (Matthew 13:47-50). This is probably one of my favorite parables. I don’t know if I ever noticed it in any meaningful way before I read Capon’s three volume study of the parables. And what Capon had to say about that parable, well, let me just tell you. No wait, how about I just share some of the highlights of his commentary on Matthew 13:47-50?

“In any case, just as the net fetches out everything it meets in the sea, so the kingdom fetches home to God everything in the world. The new heavens and the new earth are not replacements for the old ones; they are transfigurations of them. The redeemed order is not the created order forsaken; it is the created order – all of it – raised and glorified…

But even that representation still does not introduce the note of judgment: neither the net as it makes its way through the sea, nor the kingdom as it makes its way through the world, can be said to reject anything. True enough, a sorting, a day of judgment, is clearly on the way in both cases, and once the eschatological shore has been reached, it will begin in earnest…

The church, as the sacrament of the kingdom, should avoid the temptation to act like a sport fisherman who is interested only in speckled trout and hand tied flies. In particular, it should not get itself into the habit of rejecting as junk the flotsam and jetsam of the world – the human counterparts of the old boots, bottles, and beer cans that a truly catholic fishing operation will inevitably dredge up…

The church, in short, has a role to play only here and now, so if it wants a role model for its operations, it should imitate the kingdom’s present, nonjudgmental way of doing business, not its final one. It definitely should not attempt, in this world, to do the kind of sorting out that the kingdom so plainly refuses to do until the next…

Jesus didn’t shy away from sinners, so why should the church? And don’t tell me the church welcomes sinners. I know better. It welcomes only sinners who repent and then never seriously need forgiveness again. It can reclasp to its bosom members who gossip or lose their tempers (little-bitty sins, apparently – though where that qualification came from is not clear); but God help those who fornicate or lose their will to stay married. And it has the gall to make such invidious distinctions in the name of a Lord who unqualifiedly told Peter, the Chief Fisherman, to forgive his sinful brother (Andrew, perhaps? – maybe he wasn’t the good old boy he was cracked up to be) seventy times seven times.
“Ah, but,” you object. “What about reform? Are we to give the world the impression it doesn’t need to straighten up and fly right? Are we simply to imply that it can get away with murder if it likes?”
Well, for openers, the world has already gotten away with – no, that’s too weak; it has already been absolutely saved by – its murder of God himself incarnate…You were talking about what we should or shouldn’t do to improve the human race’s aeronautics. And about that, I have only one thing to say: ‘if there had been a law given which could have given life, verily righteousness should have been by the law’ (Galatians 3:21 KJV).

Everybody, even the worst stinker on earth, is somebody for whom Christ died. What a colossal misrepresentation it is, then, when the church gathers up its skirts and chases questionable types out of its midst with a broom. For the church to act as if it dare not have any dealings with sinners is as much a betrayal of its mission as it would be for a hospital to turn away sick people or for a carpenter to refuse to touch rough-cut wood.
Sinners are the church’s business, for God’s sake.”

(Robert Farrar Capon, Kingdom, Grace, Judgment: Paradox, Outrage and Vindication in the Parables of Jesus).

I left a lot but you get the point.

Which is why I was so excited not only that they had Jesus teaching this parable (the first parable they portray him teaching) but that later in the show, after he calls Peter, he says this:

“Did you understand the parable I told you earlier? From now on, I will make you fishers of men. And you are to gather as many as possible, all kinds. I will sort them out later.”

Matthew 13:47-50: “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind. When it was full, men drew it ashore and sat down and sorted the good into containers but threw away the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”