His Kindness: Mark 6:30-44

Two weeks ago we looked at how Jesus sent his disciples out in groups of two to minister to surrounding towns in his name. Today, we pick up at their return– they were excited and ready to share with Jesus all that happened during their time. Scripture tells us, that in this moment, so many people were coming and going that Jesus and his disciples were being constantly interrupted and didn’t even have a chance to eat. They were hungry. They were tired. They were excited. They wanted to be alone with Jesus, so Jesus said to them:

 “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place.” (Mark 6: 31-32). 

That would have been lovely if it had worked. Unfortunately for them, they had achieved a degree of fame in the region and they were recognized. By this time, the disciples themselves had performed some miracles in the authority and power of Jesus, and Jesus’ reputation been spreading for a while. So, a group of people began to run along the shore. People from other towns joined the first runners, and by the time Jesus and his disciples landed,  there was a crowd of 5,000 or more people waiting for them. I don’t imagine that the scene was calm. Large crowds usually aren’t.

Jesus looked at the crowd, and rather than being perturbed that they were interrupting time with his disciples, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. Setting his own needs and the needs of his disciples aside, he began to teach them “many things” (v. 34).  I wonder what he taught them? I’m sure that part of it had to do with the kingdom of Heaven and the nearness of God. I wish Mark would have written some of the things Jesus said. Without a doubt, it was tailored to what that group of people needed to hear. I wonder if the disciples were perturbed by the crowd. Honestly, if it had been me, I probably would have been.

As the day began to come to an end, the disciples came to Jesus and asked him to send the people away. They recognized that they were in the middle of nowhere (a remote place that was supposed to have been their solitary place) and that the people needed to eat.  They suggested that Jesus dismiss the crowd and send them away to some nearby towns to find something to eat.

Jesus looked at his followers and said to them: “You give them something to eat”. Hmmm. What on earth were they to do? They were in front of a huge crowd. They themselves were hungry. They were tired. They were concerned about how all of those people were going to eat. They obviously didn’t have provisions. And Jesus wouldn’t let them dismiss the need, instead, he asked them to engage the need. (We can learn something here.)

They reminded Jesus that to feed all of those people would cost more than a year’s wages and questioned if he really wanted them to spend their money that way. (We can logically and rationally come up with reasons not to minister to people, lack of resources is a big one.)

Jesus began to teach them a lesson–he asked how many loaves they had and told them to “go and see” (v.38)–to look for the resources right in their midst, in the crowd.  They came back with five loaves of bread and two fish.

Jesus, who was shepherding all of them, asked the disciples to get the people to sit down in the green grass. I love that Mark includes that detail. The grass was green. I think that’s important.

The disciples split the crowd into groups of 50s or 100s–the chaos of the crowd became organized groups in which every individual person’s need could be met. Then Jesus took the very little they had at their disposal and thanked God for it. He broke the bread.  The disciples distributed the food to the people. Everyone ate. Everyone was satisfied. The disciples picked up the leftovers–twelve baskets full of broken pieces of bread and fish.

There are so many things to glean from this passage–but one of the things that came to my mind while Pastor John was preaching, was Psalm 23, which was penned before Jesus walked the earth; however, it is easy to see similarities in the 23rd Psalm and in Jesus’ actions. Jesus was showing what Yahweh as our kind shepherd looks like.

Jesus saw the crowd– they were like sheep without a shepherd, so he had compassion on them (v 34).

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want”.

Jesus had them sit down in the green grass (v 39).

“He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul”

He taught them (v 34).

“He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake”

He shepherded them:

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

He fed them (v. 41).

“You prepare a table before me “

He esteemed them as worthy of his time and his care.

“You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over.”

He took care of them–of all of them. He is the good shepherd and he was caring for his sheep–including his disciples.

I don’t know what his hungry, tired disciples were thinking, as they served. They may have thought they had nothing left to give, and here was Jesus asking them to serve this huge crowd. They may have wondered when they were going to get a chance to rest, or to eat, or to be alone with Jesus. Jesus closest followers were in “the first shall be last” category during this account. Were they serving with grateful hearts or begrudgingly? We don’t know. What we do know is that Jesus provided for their hunger above and beyond what they could have asked or imagined. After the disciples served food to the entire crowd– which probably took a while, 12 baskets full of bread and fish were left over –a full basket for each one of them. Can’t you see the twinkle in Jesus’ eye.  He may have even laughed. He had not forgotten them.

Do you ever think about the person in the crowd who was generous enough to share his loaves and fish? Can you imagine what he was thinking as his little offering multiplied into abundance in the hands of Jesus and fed everyone? Do we have this mindset? Even if we recognize that we can’t bring much to the table, do we bring it anyway because we are generous in spirit and trust Jesus with what we have?

And what of the crowd–the frenzied rush along the seashore so that they wouldn’t lose sight of Jesus. They hungered for him. He saw them. He had compassion on them. He taught them. He organized them. He fed them. He loved them–each one of them. In the midst of the masses, Jesus meets individual needs. He will meet your needs, whether you are in the role of serving, or the role of receiving, Jesus knows what you need.

The Lord who is Shepherd met their needs. Their cups ran over. They were satisfied.

–Luanne

The ways of Jesus amaze me… As I listened to Sunday’s sermon, I found myself thinking a lot about the disciples and what they might have been thinking. Luanne explained that they had just returned from ministering in surrounding towns, that they were tired and they were hungry. And Jesus says to them in Mark 6:31, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” So they left, and went by boat to a solitary place. I find it interesting that none of the disciples asked Jesus about food before they got into the boat to leave. Scripture tells us that they were hungry. Jesus knew they were hungry. Yet they were headed to a solitary place where, as the story confirms later, there wouldn’t be any food. And we can assume, also based on how the story plays out, that they had no food stored in the boat either.

So, the disciples were hungry and tired. Jesus says, “Come with me… and get some rest.” No one (that we’re aware of) asked about food.

As I pondered this today, I couldn’t stop thinking about the similarity between Jesus’ words in verse 31 and what he says in Matthew 11:28:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Maybe the reason they got into the boat without food is that they assumed they’d fish for their dinner? Maybe they were just too exhausted, and didn’t have the presence of mind to think to ask?

Or maybe it was because of one little word…

“Come with me…”

Jesus didn’t send them off in the boats to go find their own place to rest. He was going with them. To a quiet place. To get some rest. By themselves. Apparently that sounded pretty good to them. I get that. Sometimes I get “peopled” out. Getting away with Jesus alone, finding rest with him–yeah, that’s pretty appealing most days! I imagine the disciples thought so, too. Time with their teacher whom they admired, their friend who loved them and whom they adored, their leader who had proven to be trustworthy and able to provide for so many needs? Without interruption? I bet they got into the boat pretty quickly! His “withness” may have been all they wanted–they’d figure out dinner plans when they got to wherever they were going. The fact is, his withness was, whether they knew it yet or not, all they (and the 5,000+ who would soon join them) needed.

They were going with Jesus. And they were looking forward to getting some rest.

The thing is… sometimes the “rest” Jesus offers doesn’t look like we imagine it will. I can’t get away from Matthew 11:28-30 lately, and what I’ve been learning in these words seems to fit well with what the disciples experienced in this story. The NIV translation that I referenced above reads, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” The way that The Message phrases these words of Jesus has captured my attention for some time now:

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.

I was struck a couple of months ago by how many verbs are in this passage… Come. Recover. Walk. Work. Watch. Learn. And Jesus calls this “a real rest.” Or, as other translations put it, “rest for your souls.”

The Greek word translated “rest” in the Mark and Matthew verses is the same word. Jesus is extending an invitation in both passages. It almost appears to me like the story in Mark of what happens when they get to shore is what the Matthew passage looks like in real time.

The hungry, exhausted group gets to shore. Only, their quiet, solitary place is neither quiet, nor solitary…

They got to shore and saw the crowd. Jesus, their consistently kind leader, is moved with compassion, and begins to teach them. I wonder what the disciples were doing while he was teaching? We know they weren’t beside him, because the next verse tells us they “…came to him” (vs.35) to address the time as well as the food problem. Maybe they had been napping in the boat. Maybe they sat off to the side in their own little circle, commiserating with one another about why Jesus always seemed to allow these kinds of interruptions.Wherever they were, they approached Jesus at this point. They wanted to send the crowd away to get food in nearby towns. I wonder if their suggestion was layered… Maybe they thought that if Jesus agreed with their idea, they could actually get some rest and some time alone with him? We aren’t told. Jesus’ response? I’ll borrow Luanne’s description here:

Jesus looked at his followers and said to them: “You give them something to eat”. Hmmm. What on earth were they to do? They were in front of a huge crowd. They themselves were hungry. They were tired. They were concerned about how all of those people were going to eat. They obviously didn’t have provisions…

And then Jesus tells them to see what food they had among them. They did. He told them to organize the people into smaller groups, and to have them sit down in the green grass. The disciples do as Jesus says. He takes the food they were given, gives thanks, and has them distribute it among the crowd. Can you imagine how long this whole process took? Walking among the crowd to find out if any of them had food. Arranging them all into groups. Going from group to group distributing food. I wonder what their conversations with the people were like… What did they learn about those they engaged and served? What did they feel as they heard their stories?  

Whatever the answers to those questions may be, what they experienced clearly wasn’t rest. Or was it?

The disciples had expectations. They thought they were going with Jesus to a quiet place to get some rest. If we take another look at the Matthew verses, it appears they did just that…

They got away with Jesus. They watched him. Learned from him. Worked with him. In Matthew, Jesus says that in doing those things, in learning his ways, we learn the unforced rhythms of grace, and how to live freely and lightly, how to take a real rest. I have a hunch that at the end of the evening, the disciples–though physically tired–felt free, light, held in the grace and kindness of Jesus, captivated by the one who provided for all of them.

Jesus said in Mark 6:31,

“Come with me…” They did.

“…to a quiet place…” He himself was the quiet place. His presence brought the calm, the quiet they longed for, the peace they needed.

“…and get some rest.” His rest. His way. Rest for their souls. And a full basket of food left over for each one of them. Because Jesus cared about their physical needs, too, as he cares about ours.

Interesting that there were twelve baskets of food leftover. Not thirteen. We don’t know if Jesus ate anything that night. What we are told is that he, the picture of a servant-leader, took care of the crowd, took care of his own disciples–with extravagant abundance–and as far as we know, wasn’t concerned about his own hunger.

I am undone all over again by his unfailing kindness and extraordinary compassion, his inexhaustible grace and limitless love… There is simply no one like him–and yet he invites us to become like him, to learn from him, to move with him and as him in this world…  May we learn well his rhythms of grace. May our souls find in him the quiet place–the rest–that we long for. And may those we encounter along the way find his kindness alive in us.

–Laura

Image result for baskets of bread and fish

Limits: Freedom to Choose

The story of King Herod and John the Baptizer isn’t very fun to read. We don’t get to breathe a sigh of relief at the end of it as things are set right and pain is redeemed, because in this story, it’s not. It’s a story about a man who had a lot of power and the freedom to make a lot of choices without being questioned. Most of his choices were terrible, and nearly all of them were influenced by the desires and opinions of others. He even acted against his own convictions–after all, he had an image to preserve, a reputation to hold up.

The end of the passage we studied last week told us that Jesus’s disciples did what he sent them out to do: they healed people and drove out demons in his name. In the first verse of this week’s passage (Mark 6:14-29), Mark begins by telling us that “King Herod heard about this, for Jesus’ name had become well known.” King Herod’s reaction to what he heard was, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised from the dead!” And then we get to read the whole story about the events that led to the beheading of John.

Why was this King Herod’s initial reaction to hearing about Jesus and his disciples? It likely had something to do with the word about–he hadn’t met Jesus, he didn’t know him. He had heard about him. And what he heard reminded him of someone else. Someone whose death he was responsible for. Perhaps his reaction was what it was because he had a guilty conscience. Maybe he was very aware of his wrongdoing, and maybe he was afraid of the consequences.

If we’re honest, when we read this story we can’t escape the reality of sin or the truth that, while most of us haven’t had someone killed, Herod’s string of bad decisions feels a little too familiar.

So. Let’s talk about sin.

What is sin, exactly? It is commonly associated with other words like condemnation, guilt, shame, exposure, evil, bad, wrong… I’m sure most of us could add a few more to that list. It’s a common assumption that sin entered the human experience in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit. What is less commonly known is that the word “sin” doesn’t show up until a couple of chapters later. And it doesn’t show up as an action. Its described more like a temptation, almost a persona…

Cain and Abel, sons of Adam and Eve, both gave offerings of their labor to God. Most of our English translations say something like “God looked with favor on Abel’s sacrifice but did not look with favor on Cain’s.” If you look at the original language and the root words, it’s pretty difficult to make a case for the word “favor” showing up in the passage at all. The definitions of the original words basically say “God looked at Abel’s (and the word used for “looked” here has more negative connotations than it does positive, though it does have both) and he didn’t look at Cain’s.” It really doesn’t say anything about “how” God looked or didn’t look. I mention this not because I’m some kind of scholar–I am definitely not a theologian. I mention it because we all heave projections onto our God sometimes that make him look nothing like who he really is. What we do know is that Cain took it personally, however it happened.

J.D. Myers, in his book Nothing But the Blood of Jesus, writes:

“Sin is first mentioned in the Bible when Cain becomes angry at his brother Abel and enters into rivalry with him. God warns Cain that sin is crouching at his door, seeking to devour him. (Gen. 4:7) …Sin is first introduced and defined in the Bible as the cycle of imitative desire leading to rivalry, blame, scapegoating, and violence.”

This description makes me think of James 1:14-16:

Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away. These desires give birth to sinful actions. And when sin is allowed to grow, it gives birth to death.” (NLT)

Cain was jealous of whatever he thought his brother had. His desire was to win, to be better. His desire led him straight into the arms of sin. Sin’s desire was to have Cain–to consume him–and their union gave birth to violent actions which led to Abel’s death.

Maybe you’ve heard sin described as “missing the mark”. The bible makes a pretty strong case for this particular definition. But missing the mark of what? Perfection? Holiness? Godliness? I’m not sure–the Bible doesn’t directly tell us. But I really like the way Myers describes it in the book I cited above:

“Sin is living inhuman lives; lives that do not treat others as human beings made in the image of God, and lives that do not live up to our full potential as human beings in God’s image. Sin causes us to live as less than human.”

That feels like a good description of “missing the mark” to me. It certainly applies to the actions of Cain and King Herod. Sadly, it applies to many of my own choices, too…

Pastor John told us a few things about sin. He told us that sin is arrogant. It leads us to believe that we’re somehow beyond or above its consequences. It gets our attention–either through guilt or through shame. It seems rational at the time. It tells us we’re somehow in the right, or justified. So we deny what we’ve done and we minimize the impact of our actions. It begins to shape how we think. And with every step we take toward sin’s invitation, we become more and more consumed by it. Sin tells us that we are our own god. We are above consequence, and we are in control. It becomes agonizing over time, despite the lies we tell ourselves, and it begins to weigh us down. We forget who we are and whose we are, and we feel far from home. We begin to identify ourselves as bad, and we become convinced that something is inherently wrong with us. 

Herein lies the limit. We limit our own ability to experience the ever-present love of our God when we fall into the murderous embrace of sin. Sin wants to destroy us–not by sending us to the flames of some kind of hell. By encasing us in a cloak of lies that prevents us from feeling the love of the one who has never–and, hear me, will never–turn away from us. Sin doesn’t actually succeed at keeping us from God. But it limits our ability to sense and to know his love. We miss out on the experiential knowing of the withness of Jesus because we project our own guilt and shame onto our relationship with him. And so we hide. We run. We pull sin’s arms tightly around us to shield us from the wrath we imagine is coming…

But the only wrath that comes our way comes as the natural consequences of our actions.

The wrath is never from the one who made us, loves us, and never stops coming for us. There is no place so far that his presence won’t meet us there. Even if we make our bed in the place of the dead, he’s there. (Psalm 139)

His hand never, ever stops reaching for us. Sin doesn’t keep God from us. Ever. In the book A More Christlike God, Brad Jersak writes:

“Even when we turn away from God, he is always there, confronting us with his love. God is always toward us. Always for us. He comes, not as a condemning judge, but as a great physician… God never turns away from humanity. God is perfectly revealed in Jesus. When did Jesus ever turn away from sinful humanity and say, “I am too holy and perfect to look on your sin?” Did Jesus ever do anything like that? No. The Pharisees did that. They were too holy and turned away. God is like Jesus, not like a Pharisee. The gospel is this: when we turn away, he turns toward us. When we run away, he confronts us with his love. When we murder God, he confronts us with his mercy and forgiveness.”

There is always a hand that is extended toward us, no matter where we are or what heinous thing we have done. In reality, there is no “coming back” into God’s presence. Because there is nowhere his presence is not. There is only the choice to yield to the already-there God, letting his hand pull us from the churning belly of sin, and allowing ourselves to be absorbed into the love that is–and always has been–our home. Or there is the choice not to. Our choices can limit our ability to experience that extravagant love–but our choices can never remove us from the presence of the one who is with us, wherever we go.

–Laura

I love every word that Laura wrote and don’t have much to add; however, when she was speaking of Cain and Able, she includes this quote from J. D. Myers:

“Sin is first mentioned in the Bible when Cain becomes angry at his brother Abel and enters into rivalry with him.

The word rivalry jumped out at me. I think our western consumeristic mindset leads us to live in a constant state of rivalry.  The definition of rivalry is: competition for the same objective or for superiority in the same field.  It’s a mindset that we are permeated with, but which will eventually erode our souls. 

Every advertisement that we see, every person that we compare ourselves with, every time we spend money that we don’t have to purchase something because we want it, or because it’s the “in” thing and we don’t want to be left out, every time we hustle for our worth and try to make ourselves indispensable to another human being, every time we pre-judge another person without knowing them at all, every time we treat (or even think) of someone else with disdain, every time we feel envious of what another has, or feel “less than”, every time we harbor bitterness because of what we think someone else deserves, every time we go along with the crowd against our own convictions–like Herod did–it’s all based in some sort of competition to be liked, to be accepted, to be superior…

That’s what Cain was feeling when he felt inferior to his brother. God, in his goodness, came to Cain and said to him  “sin is crouching at the door, and its desire is for you, but you must master it.” (Gen 4:7). Then Cain had a choice to make.

That scripture reminds me of the scripture in Luke 22:31-32 when Jesus tells Peter that Peter will deny him. Jesus says: Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you (plural) as wheat.  But I have prayed for you (singular), Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”  

Again, we see the warning, and the promise that Jesus is right there waiting with open arms through the season of our poor choices, and at the moment of our repentance. He does not reject us–ever.

Remembering that the word repentance literally means to change our mind removes the fear of condemnation. Repentance, in some circles, sounds like an awful thing, a condemning thing–yet Jesus did not come to condemn the world, but to save the world. (John 3:17)And he tells us through the Apostle John that …perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love. (1 John 4:18 NLT).  

Last week, author Jonathan Martin tweeted “to repent is to remember: to remember who you are, to remember who God has always said you are; to recognize, to know, again; to come to yourself; to be who you’ve always been, but not allowed yourself to be.”

If we allow ourselves to see ourselves as unique, one of a kind, beloved image-bearers of God–fully known and fully loved, and learn to see others in that same way–rivalry falls to the wayside.

King Herod was loved by God. King Herod made a series of bad choices, beginning, in this account, with marrying his brother’s wife, which led to the prophet John the Baptist pointing out his immoral behavior, which led to John’s arrest.  Herod’s wife hated John and wanted him dead, but Herod feared John and protected him, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man. When Herod heard John, he was greatly puzzled; yet he liked to listen to him. (Mark 6:20)  Herod threw a party, his step-daughter danced in front of his guests and he was so pleased he promised her anything she wanted–up to half his kingdom. She asked her mother what she should ask for, her mother wanted John the Baptist beheaded–the daughter asked Herod for John’s head. The king was greatly distressed, but because of his oaths and his dinner guests, he did not want to refuse her…(Mark 6:26)

Even in Herod’s series of people-pleasing poor choices, God loved him. It’s interesting to read the detail that John’s message puzzled Herod, yet he liked to listen to him. I believe God was drawing Herod to himself through John.

We all make poor choices. We all compare ourselves to others. We all “miss the mark”. We all have a tendency to think that we will not reap the consequences of our poor choices. We all rationalize our actions. We all push God away. We all separate ourselves from experiencing the fullness of God’s love. But God never stops loving us. God never pushes us away. God never leaves us. God never turns his back on us.

This week’s limit….we limit our experience of God’s unconditional love in our lives when we choose to “let sin master us”, when we choose to follow our own desires, when we choose to please others against our own convictions, when we choose to diminish ourselves or puff up ourselves in comparison to others, when we let our thought lives run amuck, but God…he never limits his love for us. It is a constant, it is his very character…God is love.

I read this quote the other day–I don’t know who gets the credit for it, but I love it:

                          “Jesus told the story of the prodigal son to make a simple point:                     never mind what you’ve done, just come home.”

This is the heart of our God–just come home. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love. Don’t be afraid. None of us is going to do life perfectly. We all fall short. And in the mind-blowing way of our God–His perfect love is there to receive us with open arms–always. 

–Luanne

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Limits: Going

“Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” (Mark 1:16).

This was the call. This was the mission. This was the journey. When Jesus called his first disciples, this was his invitation. As we’ve followed their journey through the book of Mark, we have seen Jesus teach them; we have seen Jesus demonstrate his authority over nature, demons, sickness, and death; we have seen Jesus love the least of these; we have seen how Jesus handles rejection and how unbelief limits his ability to perform miracles. And, we have seen that right after rejection, Jesus moved on and continued teaching.

Shortly after modeling that…

 He called the Twelve to him. Then he sent them out two by two. He gave them authority to drive out evil spirits.
 Here were his orders.”Take only a walking stick for your trip. Do not take bread or a bag. Take no money in your belts. 
 Wear sandals. But do not take extra clothes. 
 When you are invited into a house, stay there until you leave town. 
 Some places may not welcome you or listen to you. If they don’t, shake the dust off your feet when you leave. That will be a witness against the people living there.” 
 They went out. And they preached that people should turn away from their sins.
 They drove out many demons. They poured oil on many sick people and healed them.  (Mark 6: 7-13 NIRV)
The time had come for the fishermen to fish. Jesus was beginning to transfer the ministry to them. They were no longer going to just be his companions who sat at his feet and got a front seat to his miracles. It was time for them to begin to carry Jesus’ love and his ways to others.
I wonder if they were nervous? I wonder if they felt like they weren’t ready? What if they refused to go? Therein lies the limit--we can choose whether or not to go. Gratefully, these twelve chose to go.
Jesus encouraged them to pack light–it would not be necessary for them to take a lot with them. They could take a walking stick (staff), no food, no bag, no money. They could wear sandals, but they were not to take an extra tunic. They were to keep it very simple, and they were to accept and embrace the hospitality of others.
And Jesus equipped them with authority over evil spirits. 
That’s what they took. A walking stick, one set of clothes, and Jesus’ authority over evil spirits. I think it’s incredibly important to note that Jesus didn’t give them authority over people. He gave them authority over the dominion that oppresses people. All the way back in the first chapter of Genesis, we see that God made male and female in his image and likeness, and gave them dominion over the rest of the created world; to care for it. He didn’t give them authority over one another. And in this Mark 6 passage, he is still not giving people authority over other people. Any time one group assumes authority over another it leads to superiority and oppression–that is not the way of Jesus. So–the authority is over evil spirits.
The disciples went. They preached that people should “repent”, which literally means to change their minds. What were they changing their minds about? I would imagine since Jesus taught about the Kingdom and how near it is, that they were teaching the same thing. Jesus had not yet faced his crucifixion, so the disciples were carrying the news that God is here, he is close, his kingdom is here, he cares about you, his power is here, he meets you where you are, he sees you, he has sent us to you to show you his love and his power, and to set you free from the things that oppress you. His power–not our power. That’s important to note as well.
And then there’s that weird section that seems so contrary to the character of Jesus. He tells them that if they are rejected, they should shake the dust off their feet when they leave as a testimony against the people. Is he telling them to hold a grudge? That doesn’t seem to be congruent with the rest of Jesus’ overall message.
Thing number three that’s important to note: Jesus had just recently been rejected in his own home town. Remember how he marveled at the unbelief of the people there? Remember how he wasn’t able to perform many miracles? When he left that place, he moved on to other places and continued his mission, continued his teaching. The rejection of one place didn’t taint his heart as he moved on. And the witness “against” the people, is that they are remembered for their unbelief. Their own actions are the witness against them.
Pastor John taught us that the shaking of the dust off their feet was a cultural thing, and then he gave us a new way to think about that passage. Jesus calls each of us to go, to share, to be his witnesses in the world. Sometimes we will be met with an open door, sometimes we won’t. When we aren’t welcomed, when we experience rejection, we need to “shake off the dust” so that it doesn’t remain with us providing an opportunity to let a root of bitterness grow. We need to head into each new situation without being tainted by previously hard situations. That’s not always easy. Sometimes hard situations can cause us to want to give up, to isolate, to quit. We have not been given permission to do that. However, Jesus modeled, and taught his disciples–if an environment is rejecting your message, you don’t have to stay there. Move on. Don’t carry the dust of that situation with you–but move on. Sometimes it’s not a physical move, but an emotional one–let go.
Sometimes in our human stubbornness, we stick around because we want to change things in our own power. On the flip side, there are times when hardship comes our way and we leave too quickly. How do we know when to stay or when to go? The Holy Spirit will let us know. When my husband and I were preparing to move to Brazil, we were told that there would be hard times (and there were), but to remember our call–that it would be our call that would keep us there when times got hard. That was excellent encouragement.  In our ministry today, we remember our call when times get hard. The Lord has not moved us. Instead, he has taught us, grown us, shaped us, and held us through the hard stuff. Sometimes the hard is exactly what he uses to make us more like him, to teach us what it looks like to walk with a posture of forgiveness, to love unconditionally, and to remember that our battle is not against flesh and blood. Sometimes the hard stuff reveals things within us that need to be brought into the light and healed. I don’t think I’m alone when I say that going through hard seasons with Jesus (sometimes kicking and screaming), has led to some of my deepest seasons of growth with him. I don’t understand why it has to be that way, but many times it is. So move on when the Holy Spirit says to; stay when the Holy Spirit says to.
The line in Hillsong’s song “Oceans” that says “let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me“…is a reminder that sometimes “wherever” means right where you are, right now. If that’s you, take a deep breath and give God your willingness to be where he wants you to be.
One other thing to keep in mind as we go: The protestant reformation happened in Christianity around 500 years ago, and the Latin phrase “sola scriptura” came out of that reformation. That phrase means “only scripture”.  There are four other phrases that were part of that movement as well:
Soli Deo gloria– to God alone be the glory.
Sola fide–only faith
Sola gratia–only grace
Solus Christus–only Christ
There is not an “only love”.

I find it interesting, given that Jesus says that the greatest commandment is to love God and love others,  that “only love” is not part of the reformation theology. Maybe that’s why Christianity has gotten so mean. We’ve forgotten our call to love. Remember when Jesus said to the Pharisees:

You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you have eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life…(John 5:39-40).
This is what “sola scriptura” can lead to; disconnect from the life, the heartbeat, the ways of Jesus, and make us mean.

Yes, use the precious words of scripture to get to know Jesus, but don’t elevate scripture above Christ. Don’t go with an air of authority.  Don’t take a bunch of theological jargon. Don’t beat people up with Bible verses.

Carry the person of Jesus, the very life of Jesus whose Spirit dwells within you, to those around you. Jesus wants us to keep it simple. Share how he’s loved you, how he’s changed you, how he doesn’t condemn you, and demonstrate all of that by how you love others. It’s his love that changes things. It’s his kindness that draws people. It’s his authority that pushes back the darkness. It’s his light that shines through us. The only way we can limit him is if we choose not to go…

 …we are all called to simply go.
–Luanne
Luanne wrote above, in regard to going wherever we are called, “… sometimes “wherever” means right where you are, right now. If that’s you, take a deep breath and give God your willingness to be where he wants you to be.”
I think we who have been around church or church-y things for any time at all have heard mixed messages around the idea of our “callings.” We see the pastor and we’ll say he or she has a call on their lives to preach. We support missionaries as they are called to faraway places to live their lives making disciples.
Sometimes, we are desperate to hear a “call” to anything other than our current lives so that we can feel justified in escaping whatever we don’t want to endure in that season. In times like that, it’s easy to over-spiritualize everything and believe we’ve heard a specific call, because our desperation is what’s driving us.
Sometimes, our lives are so dull, so boring, so seemingly inconsequential, that we beg God to call us to something that matters.
Some of us have been groomed for a “calling” that everyone around us is sure we were made for, so we move forward in their collective confidence in the will of God for our lives.
Oh, how we over-complicate the ways of our God…
What if our calling is more about our way of being in the world than it is about a role or a vocation…? 
I’m not suggesting that God doesn’t call us to specific things in specific seasons of our lives. I know that he does that. He’s done that in my life. But the things he has called me to have changed. The overarching call behind all that he has asked me to do, though? That has remained the same…
Luanne mentioned above that when Jesus sent his disciples out this particular time, the crucifixion hadn’t happened yet. The cross wasn’t yet in view for the twelve. She wrote,
“…the disciples were carrying the news that God is here, he is close, his kingdom is here, he cares about you, his power is here, he meets you where you are, he sees you, he has sent us to you to show you his love and his power, and to set you free from the things that oppress you.”
We know that Jesus summed up all of his teachings and all of the commandments in what he called the greatest commandment: love God and love others. And we know that his invitation was to follow him, learn from him, become like him, and bring others into his beautiful kingdom of love.
When you look at the message the disciples were carrying that Luanne described above, and couple that with the paragraph I wrote under it, it doesn’t sound like a vocation in the way that we typically understand that word. But it is a calling. It is the calling that we all share. But it will look different for each one of us.
Pastor John asked on Sunday, “How has God invited you to impact the kingdom with your one life?”
For some, that will play out on stages. For others, in hospitals. Some will travel to faraway lands. Others will teach in classrooms. Some will only ever hold the title of “Mom”. Some will run for public office. Whatever we do in our day-to-day will be the place we live out our calling. But our calling is not the roles we hold. Wherever we are– right here, right now–is where we are invited to live out our calling.
Our way of being in the world will either speak to the work of Jesus in our lives, or it won’t. It will either bring a piece of the kingdom to bear in the world around us, or it won’t. I think for all of us, it will be mixed. Sometimes we are mindful of “going” into our days, mindful of the call we carry to be ambassadors for Christ in the world around us. And sometimes we choose not to go, not to bring the fullness of the kingdom with us wherever we go. Sometimes, this is because our trust gives way to fear, and we drop the baton we carry. When that happens, as Pastor John reminded us, there is grace. It only takes one voice to pass on a message. When one voice falters, another rises up. We aren’t powerful enough to thwart the growth of the kingdom–fortunately, it doesn’t depend on you or on me. The whole thing hinges on the center, the source of the power, the giver of the message… It hinges on the creator of the imperfect vessels who are invited to be part of the greatest restoration the world has ever seen.
We won’t carry our collective calling perfectly. But if we’re willing to say yes to whatever our one journey looks like in the here and now, our willingness will make space for our limitless God to change the world through us. I want to be a part of that–even on the days when I wish my “calling” looked different than being a faithful follower in the right here, right now of today…
–Laura
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Limits

God has limits.

What?

Our God is limitless, all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful… but we have a unique capacity to limit our limitless God.

How does that statement hit you?

I think before we get into this too much further, it would be helpful to define what a “limit” is. The Oxford Dictionary defines a limit as: a point or level beyond which something does not or may not extend or pass; a restriction on the size or amount of something permissible or possible.

Keep that definition in mind as we continue…

So far in Mark we have seen Jesus talk about the kingdom being here, now; teach about the kingdom–what it is and how it grows; and show those around him his authority as he enacts the values of the kingdom in the lives of those around him. The passage we looked at on Sunday shows us that we have the ability to put limits on what God can do based on our willingness or unwillingness to participate in the values of kingdom living. Living in the flow of the kingdom includes a posture of belief, trust, and ultimately hope in the one we believe in.

This is not the posture Jesus encountered in this week’s passage. Mark chapter 6 begins by telling us that Jesus left there (where he had just raised Jairus’s daughter from the dead), and went to his hometown.

Pastor John talked about coming home, and about what “home” means. He said that there is an expectation that home is where we get to be ourselves–a safe place, a place of grace. It’s a place where we can be honest about our successes (and failures) openly, a place where our wins can be celebrated in a different way. It’s a place where we can expect to be known and seen, and there’s a measure of vulnerability allowed without condemnation.

I’m going to pause here… Because I know that description of “home” might be painful to read for some. It was painful for me to hear, and painful to write out. Home isn’t always a safe, welcoming place, and sometimes it can feel like the last place we can be our real selves. Sometimes, home is where we feel the least seen and the most overlooked. I have felt this deep pain, as I’m sure many of you have. And you know what? Jesus did, too.

When Jesus went home following a series of mind-blowing miracles, he went with a new reputation, and with quite the following. Perhaps he thought that his community would accept him now, in a way they hadn’t before.

He wasn’t given a warm welcome.

He walked into a place that had been permeated by a posture of unbelief–it only takes one or two negative, unbelieving hearts to change the atmosphere of a place–and he was met with doubts, presumptions, and criticism. Let’s look at the story:

Jesus left that part of the country and returned with his disciples to Nazareth, his hometown. The next Sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed. They asked, “Where did he get all this wisdom and the power to perform such miracles?” Then they scoffed, “He’s just a carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters live right here among us.” They were deeply offended and refused to believe in him. Then Jesus told them, “A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown and among his relatives and his own family.” And because of their unbelief, he couldn’t do any miracles among them except to place his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their unbelief. (Mark 6:1-6, NLT, emphasis mine)

Jesus went home and began to teach. And the text tells us that the people were “amazed”. The same word was used to describe the reaction of people when they saw the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons in his right mind again, as well as to describe their reaction to Jesus raising Jairus’s daughter from the dead. People were “amazed” or, in some of our translations, “astonished”. I decided to look up these occurrences of the word “amazed”, to see if they were all the same word in the original language. Here is what I found…

In the story of the man called “Legion” (Mark 5:20), amazed is translated from the Greek “thaumazo”. It means “to wonder at, to marvel” and its root means “to look closely at, to behold.”

In the story of Jairus’s daughter (Mark 5:42), the original word is “existemi”. This word means “to amaze, astonish, throw into wonderment“, and can also mean “to be out of one’s mind.”

In this week’s story (Mark 6:2), “amazed” is translated from the word “ekplesso”. It means “to strike out, drive out, expel by a blow; to strike with panic, shock”. In the first two stories, “amaze” means similar things. Not so with this story. The people’s amazement at Jesus here is the kind that is passive. They were struck by the things Jesus taught, in a way that caused shock and panic among them, in a way that felt like a blow. A blow to what? We’re not told. But it could have been to their own egos, to their understanding, to their idea of Jesus… Whatever “blow” they were struck by, we’re told that they scoffed and were deeply offended. The word translated “offense” comes from the Greek word “skandalizo”. It looks a lot our English “scandalized”, doesn’t it? (Our English word is, in fact, derived from this original Greek term.) It means “to cause a person to distrust or desert; to put a stumbling block in the way, to cause one to unjustly judge another.”

Their unbelief caused them to scandalize Jesus in their own minds. They were leaning on their own understanding, and what they thought they knew placed limits on what Jesus could have done in their midst… This is why the exhortation of Proverbs 3:5-6 is so important to listen to. I love the way the Message paraphrase puts it:

Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
    don’t try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;
    he’s the one who will keep you on track.
Don’t assume that you know it all.

Jesus’s community assumed that they knew everything about him. They knew whose kid he was, they had meals with his siblings. They knew his trade and they knew his place in society.

But they didn’t leave room in their hearts to get to know him. The real Jesus. They had a story in their heads and it took up all the space where kingdom values could have been heard and understood. They chose to doubt, rather than believe. And so, Jesus couldn’t do any miracles among them because of their unbelief.

This in no way means that he didn’t have the power to do the same miracles there that he had done elsewhere. In fact, the text tells us that he did perform some healing miracles while he was there. He could do them, and he did do them. It’s right there in the passage. But it wouldn’t have mattered how grand the miracles were or how many he performed–their hearts were set up against him. Their posture of unbelief discounted every truth about him in their minds, and the culture in that town was hostile to the kingdom.

Jesus brought the kingdom into that town, the same way he carried it everywhere he went. But it wasn’t received. And without a place for kingdom seeds to grow, any work he did among them would have been futile. He could not force the kingdom to grow and expand in a place where it was not welcomed. There was no posture of belief, no willingness to join Jesus in his kingdom work, no trust–there was only contempt and doubt and unbelief. And so, because we have a good God who chooses to move through us–imperfect and, sometimes unwilling, vessels–Jesus faced limits in his hometown.

This story stands in stark contrast to the story of the woman that Jesus named “Daughter” and commended for her faith just days before, and to the story of Jairus coming to Jesus in faith on behalf of his dying daughter. In these stories, we saw great faith, and we saw Jesus respond to it with miracles of healing.

Am I saying that if we have enough faith, we’ll get our miracle every time? No. I’m not. And I don’t believe that’s what Pastor John was saying either. We know that sometimes faith is strong, and thousands believe together for a miracle that doesn’t come. We see examples of this when we hear about miscarriages, cancer, chronic illness and pain, depression, despair so deep it leads to suicide–despite fervent prayers and belief that God could change those stories–but for some reason he doesn’t. I would never say that any of these losses, any of this pain is a result of a lack of faith. I’ve watched faithful followers of Jesus battle bravely and hang onto every last shred of hope for their miracle–some of them are still with us, healed; some are no longer here.

I know there’s not a formula to faith and miracles. But choosing to live in the ways of the kingdom–holding onto hope, choosing to trust, believing that God always CAN–even if he doesn’t always show up the way we’re hoping he will, keeps our hearts and minds open to the movement of God in and around us. If we live this way, we live in a way that allows us to see and experience all that he is able to do–if we’re willing to bring his kingdom to bear alongside him…

There is one more occurrence of “amazed” I want to touch on… Mark 6:6 tells us that Jesus was amazed at their unbelief. Which “amazed” do you think he was?

It’s “thaumazo”, the same one used in the story of the man who was possessed. It’s the one that means “to wonder at, to marvel; to look closely, behold.” It would have made sense for Jesus’s amazement to be like that of his community–like he’d been struck by a blow. But it touches my heart in a deep place that this wasn’t Jesus’s response. He looked closely, beheld these people who were his family, his community–these ones who scoffed at and rejected him–and he chose not to take the same posture. He didn’t scandalize them in his mind. He beheld them with his kingdom eyes. I think maybe in that moment he saw beyond, into the days that were yet to come, days when many from his community–including his brother James–would not only change their posture to one of belief, but would become leaders of the early church.

Kingdom vision never wears lenses of hopelessness or disbelief. In the kingdom, there is no lost cause, no situation that can’t be changed. And here, even on a day when his heart must have ached from the pain of rejection, we see our Jesus choose an unexpected way, a kingdom way, of seeing those around him. What if we chose a posture that always believes, always hopes, always perseveres, always trusts, always loves? How would that kind of posture change the way we see the world–and the way the world sees us?

–Laura

A dozen or so years ago, Bible study author and teacher Beth Moore offered her first on-line study. I lived in Brazil at the time and was excited to be able to participate in the study from my home there. The title of the study was “Believing God”. It rocked my world. I have gone on to do/lead that study five more times. The thing making that study so profound for me was a seemingly small shift in a common phrase, which made all the difference in the world. Rather than “I believe in God”,  the phrase became I believe God. The study was built on these tenets:

God is who he says he is.

God can do what he says he can do.

I am who God says I am.

I can do all things through Christ.

I’m believing God. (Beth Moore)

Our belief doesn’t manipulate God into doing what we want him to do, but it does provide an open channel for God’s activity to flow–or as Laura wrote–for God to bring the kingdom here.

Last night a storm passed through our city. The power went out at my house for 2 1/2 hours. The power source was still available, many houses in town still had power, but something had happened in my part of town that caused the flow of that power to be interrupted. Unbelief is like that. It doesn’t diminish the power of God in any way. However, it can block the flow of that power.

I can’t pretend to understand this mystery, but God in his great love has allowed us to be partners with him in bringing the kingdom of heaven to earth. As in any relationship, if one of the partners chooses to disengage, the effectiveness of the partnership suffers.

Our belief that God is who he says he is and can do what he says he can do is vitally important in kingdom work. In the Old Testament book of Numbers, as God was getting ready to lead his people into the land he was giving them,  Moses and Aaron sent twelve men on a scouting mission to bring back a report. They came back with amazing produce and a confirmation that yes, this was a good land; however, ten of the twelve said but we can’t. There are too many obstacles, too many people who are stronger than we are, it’s impossible. The result of their unbelief–their negative report:

That night all the members of the community raised their voices and wept aloud.  All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, “If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this wilderness!  Why is the Lord bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be taken as plunder. Wouldn’t it be better for us to go back to Egypt?”And they said to each other, “We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt.”  Numbers 14:1

Joshua and Caleb, who believed God could do what he said he could do, said:

If the Lord is pleased with us, he will lead us into that land, a land flowing with milk and honey, and will give it to us.  Only do not rebel against the Lord.  (Numbers 14:8)

God was giving them a gift. Instead, one bad report led an entire community into despair and worst-case scenario thinking. The consequence of their unbelief was that they did not get to see the land God was giving to them. They wandered for forty years until all of them but Joshua and Caleb had died, and the two who believed–who also suffered the consequences of the unbelief of their comrades–were able to move into the promised land.

When speaking of those who Moses led out of Egypt, Hebrews 3:19 tells us, they were not able to enter, because of their unbelief.

I think it’s important to point out that while the Israelites were in the wilderness, God was still with them. He led them, he fed them, he provided water, he miraculously made their clothes and shoes last the entire time (Deuteronomy 29:5), he taught them, he did miracles on their behalf; he continued to love them, to speak to them through Moses,  to care for them. He was still the God who is love.

It’s also important to note what Laura wrote above: Am I saying that if we have enough faith, we’ll get our miracle every time? No. I’m not.  

Our belief doesn’t manipulate God into doing what we want him to do. God is God. His ways are higher than ours, his thoughts are higher than ours; unfortunately, suffering, sickness, violence, and death are part of life on this planet–and none of us escapes those things. Neither did Jesus.

However, our unbelief can keep us from fully experiencing all that God has for us, and can keep us from living in such a way that God’s supernatural activity in and around us is impeded.

Going back to the verses that Laura quoted above: Proverbs 3:5 in the NLT version reads like this:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.

The word “trust” can be a noun or a verb. In its noun form it means: assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something; one in which confidence is placed.  In its verb form, it means: “to rely on–to believe, to place confidence in,  to commit or place in one’s care or keeping… (merriam-webster.com)

The people in Jesus’ hometown thought they knew him. They made assumptions. They created a culture of unbelief that permeated the whole town. They depended on their own understanding, their own knowledge, and from that place stood in a defensive posture and shut off the valve that could have changed their lives. They were not willing to place themselves in the care or keeping of Jesus. They were not willing to experience something new.

I’ll say it again–I don’t pretend to understand this mystery, but I believe it’s true. Our belief–the active verb kind of belief that allows God to move and work and meet us where we are, opens up the activity of heaven right here, right now. Our openness to God allows him to work through us without limits.

In the hard seasons, do I trust the character of God? When I don’t get my miracle do I trust the character of God? When everything feels dark and confusing do I trust the character of God? Do I believe God?

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego who were thrown into a blazing hot fire said to King Nebuchadnezzar:  If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand.  But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Daniel 3:17-18)

They had no doubt that God is who he says he is, and they trusted him no matter the outcome. They refused to bow to any false god–the god of disappointment, the god of my own way, the god of discontent, the god of “I’ve served you faithfully and you let this happen to me?” or any other thing that we may find ourselves serving when we lean on our own understanding.

Of Beth Moore’s principles, the one where I’ve limited God the most is “I am who God says I am”. He has invited me into things that I feel incapable of–that I am incapable of apart from him. Sometimes I close the door and don’t move into those spaces because I’m afraid–I’m relying on my own understanding. Sometimes I take a deep breath and go for it–and Every. Single. Time. come away amazed at who God is.

There have been many times when God has asked me to stay in places that are hard– physical places, relational places, emotional places. I don’t like those places, yet when I believe God, I can have the faith to believe that he will redeem the pain and work it all toward his good purpose both in and through me.

There have been times that I’ve lost people I love to disease, to car accidents, or to friendships that changed over time. If I believe God, I can have the faith that even in these hard things, he is working. I can choose to trust, to commit myself to his care and keeping–even in seasons of grief, believing that he is God and he is love even as I beat my fists against his chest.

There have been times that I have seen God perform miracles, heal, save, transform, redeem, restore, come through when all hope seemed lost, and at those times it’s easy to see him, to believe him, to glorify him.  I believe that’s one of the reasons he asks us to keep our minds focused on lovely and excellent things, and to remember what he’s done for us. It helps us keep believing, even when we don’t understand what he’s doing.

When I’m in hard seasons, I oftentimes reflect on the disciples at the time of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion. What was going through their minds? When it looked like all hope was lost, God the Son was carrying out a victorious mission. He died, passed through death, now holds the keys of death and hades, and rose again from the dead utterly defeating death.  Colossians 2:15 words it like this: And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.  What looked like total darkness and chaos, became our freedom–the verses right before 2:15 state: He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross. And then he made a public spectacle of the powers and authorities, disarming them forever!

What looked like the end was the new beginning…

Therefore:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart–don’t lean on your own knowledge or understanding. Believe God…

God is who he says he is. He can do what he says he can do. We are who he says we are. We can do all things through him. Let’s not limit what He can do by our unbelief; instead, let’s choose to believe our limitless God and watch him be amazing in our midst.

–Luanne

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Over All: Jesus Said

Over the last few weeks, we’ve been writing about Jesus and the authority that he has over nature, over evil, over sickness, over death–truly over everything. We’ve looked at beautiful encounters in the gospel of Mark between Jesus and people and have focused on what he did. In this post, we are going to go back and focus on what he said.

In Mark 4  Jesus said to the storm “Hush, be still.” (NASB) and to the disciples “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (NASB)

In Mark 5 Jesus told the formerly demon-possessed, but now set free gentleman to  “Go home to your people and report to them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He had mercy on you.”  (NASB)

He said to the courageous woman who secretly reached out and touched his garment in the hope of being healed: “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your affliction.”

To Jairus whose daughter died while he was waiting on the sidelines for Jesus to finish giving attention to the woman–Jesus said: “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” (NIV)

To the dead body of Jairus’ daughter who Jesus took by the hand, he said: “Talitha cumi,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.”  (ESV) We learned last week that phrase can also mean “Little lamb”.  Either way, we see Jesus gentleness as he exercises great authority.

Pastor John encouraged us to look at these words of Jesus through two lenses–a theological lens, and a personal lens. Both are extremely important.

Theology is the intellectual study of God. Theology leads to many theories about God. There are scholars who believe they’ve got God all figured out. Personally, I don’t believe that’s possible–God is too great. However, I do believe that God has shown us himself and his character–and I believe he has done that most clearly in the incarnation of Jesus.

At the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry in Luke 4, he opened the scroll in the synagogue and read the words of the prophet Isaiah which said:

“The Spirit of the Lord [is] upon me, Because He did anoint me; To proclaim good news to the poor, Sent me to heal the broken of heart, To proclaim to captives deliverance, And to blind receiving of sight, To send away the bruised with deliverance,  To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” (Young’s Literal Translation)

If we pay attention to the accounts in Mark, we see Jesus living out his anointing. If we pay attention to the words of Luke 4:18-19 we see the entire Trinity working together. The Spirit of Yahweh is on the person of Jesus who is the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed One. The mission of the Trinity is to lift up, restore, heal, set free, give sight, deliver, accept–and it’s all about grace bathed in love. He is making all things new.

I don’t know what your theology is–I don’t know how you view God. What I do know is that in a lot of western theology, God the Father is the “mean one”, and Jesus the Christ is the “nice one”.   God is pictured over and over as ready to smite “sinners” with a lightning bolt, he apparently has a pretty out of control temper and Jesus is supposed to pacify that anger by stepping in between. I remember thinking this way myself. It made God distant, caused me to be afraid, and truthfully was not a healthy perspective.

God, in the garden at the beginning, sought out Adam and Eve when they had made a poor choice. He reinitiated a relationship that they thought was broken. Yes, he removed them from the garden, but he went with them. All throughout the Old Testament we see this pattern. He let people reap the consequences of their choices, but never abandoned them. His mercy, his loving-kindness, his everlasting love is spoken of even in the Old Testament. He didn’t “punish” them. Their own choices punished them, and he came to them over and over again, and then he came to all of us in the form of Jesus and left us with the gift of his presence through the Holy Spirit.

It is important to note that in the Old Testament only a few select people were given the Holy Spirit. They became the prophets. Since most people did not have the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit as we do now, the revelation of God was incomplete. In the absence of complete information, all of us fill in the blanks with our own thoughts and perceptions. During the 400 years between the Old and New Testaments, when God was fairly silent, the religious leaders kept adding law upon law upon law–they were filling in the gaps of silence with attempts to reach God–who was there all along–and creating heavy, joyless weight for the people to bear.

And so Jesus comes to show us what God is like. When he is asked about the greatest commandment–the greatest law, he says: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets depend on these two commandments. (Mt. 22: 37-40). Mic drop. All the man-made attempts to please God, to relate with God, to be acceptable to God come down to one thing–LOVE.  Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love(1st John 4:8) . God’s very nature and character is love–and Jesus is God. Jesus shows us who God is, how God is, the nature and character of God, the way that God relates with humanity, the way God desires that we relate with humanity–including everyone.

Jesus says:

“The one who looks at me is seeing the one who sent me.” (John 12:45)

“Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”  (John 14:9)

“The Father and I are one.” (John 10:30)

Paul says:

“Christ is the visible image of the invisible God. He existed before anything was created and is supreme over all creation,”  (Col. 1:15 NLT)

For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him,  (Col. 1:19)

And the writer of Hebrews tells us:

The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being (Heb 1:3)

Jesus is the EXACT representation of God’s nature, God’s character, God’s heart, God’s being.  Jesus is God, Jesus is Yahweh, Jesus is the full expression of who God is.

In every encounter in Mark that we’ve looked at–God the Trinity was acting to calm the sea, to tell the disciples and Jairus not to be afraid, to set the demon-possessed man free and give him a life of purpose, to commend the woman for her faith and call her “daughter” indicating that she was cherished and belonged to him, to take a dead girl by the hand and speak to her–“little girl, little lamb, rise up”.

In the Trinity, there is no mean one and no nice one. The Trinity, the full expression of God, is love. His way of drawing us into a relationship with him is kindness. His desire is that we be like him, loving everyone and showing them what he is really like.

That’s the theological lens in a nutshell.

The personal lens we each get to wrestle with individually.  Each encounter with God recorded in Mark, each word spoken by God can be spoken to you. Maybe some of them have been.

What storm are you in? Where are you placing your faith in that storm? Jesus asks you (resist the urge to insert an angry tone) “why are you afraid…where is your faith?” He is with us in the storm, and he can calm that storm in a moment.

What is oppressing you? Jesus can/has set you free, and then sends you back to your people to tell them what he’s done for you, to tell them of his mercy, in the hopes that they will be drawn to him. People can debate scripture all day long; however, they can not dispute your personal encounter with God.

Have you lived through years of hardship and then courageously acted in faith? Jesus has time to listen to you tell your whole story, he cares about–and he is delighted with your faith. He calls you daughter (or son), and heals you.

Are you in an impossible situation? Jesus says to you “Don’t be afraid, just believe.”

Are there dead places in you? Jesus takes you by the hand and says to you, “Little lamb, rise up.”  The dead places come back to life, you find nourishment, and you rise up.

I have lived all of these. God has been so merciful and gracious to me over the years–in my grief, in my self-destruction, in my oppression, in storms that were out of my control, in my dead places that needed life breathed back into them, in my courageous “faith” moments–he has been there. He has taken me by the hand and said “rise up”. He has looked at me and called me daughter and said: “you are healed”. He has set me free from too much to go into in this blog post, and, I imagine that as long as I’m on planet earth we will continue the healing and freedom journey together. He has encouraged me to believe, to let go of my fear, and he has given me beautiful opportunity to share with others how merciful he’s been with me.  When fear rears its ugly head, which it does more often than I care to admit, he reminds me to ponder why I’m afraid, and to place myself again into his trustworthy hands. He is better than any of us can begin to fathom, kinder than we can comprehend, and beautiful in every way.

The God of love, the Trinity of love, invites us to enter in…

Luanne

As I read through what Luanne wrote, I am moved to tears over the kindness, the beauty of Jesus that she captured so well in her words. She wrapped up this series so comprehensively, I’m not sure what else I want to add… I think we’ll just linger where she left us, marveling at the wonder of the one who has authority to settle storms with a whisper, the one whose very presence causes evil to fall at his feet, but who is at the same time the most kind, the most tender, the most gentle expression of pure love that there is…

These stories that we’ve lingered in for a while, out of Mark, are some of my favorites because they present to us a picture of Jesus that seems nearly unbelievable–Is he really that powerful, that big, that kind, that near?--and at the same time, so familiar–I know he is, because he has come to me in the very same ways, with the very same kindness, the very same huge smallness.

My lenses have undergone radical adjustments, especially over the last five to ten years. Both the theological and personal lenses I was handed early in my life acted more like blindfolds to the truth of Jesus than anything that could help me see him more clearly. And yet, he was there, with me in my blindness, in my clawing around through what felt like darkness…

I thought about writing more about my experiences with these lenses–I have shared some about my childhood experiences here before–but what feels most important in this moment is to emphasize the with-ness of Jesus, to linger a little longer in the wonder of his perfect goodness.

As I typed those last two words, I felt my heart catch in my throat. Perfect goodness… How can I write that when it doesn’t always go the way it went in these stories we’ve been reading? How can I write that as a devastating hurricane ravages thousands of homes and lives with no end yet in sight? How can I talk about his perfect goodness when so many storms go un-stilled? When so many who are not in their right mind are not freed from the bondage of their suffering, and live their lives terrorizing those closest to them? How can I talk about the perfect goodness of Jesus when I lived with a woman who really believed that one touch from him would heal her, but her healing never came? When children suffer and die from cancer and stay dead, leaving their parents crying in agony, begging for a resurrection that doesn’t come? How can I say Jesus is perfectly good, kind, loving, real… when he doesn’t seem to show up like he did in these stories from long ago?

I hoped that by the time I reached the end of the last paragraph, I would have something profound to write, some encouragement that would resolve the dissonance in the often tragic soundtrack of our lives.

I don’t have anything profound to offer.

All I can offer is what I know to be true from my own experience…

When I was a tiny and vulnerable, and the hands that should have held me hurt me instead, there were other hands holding me, feeling the pain with me, never leaving me alone…

When fear visited and evil was all around, there were hands of comfort and peace that I couldn’t see, but I could feel the safety they offered, and they promised I wasn’t alone…

When I ran from all my pain and tried to find the love and safety I desired in the arms of those who would only further betray and use me, there was another set of arms waiting there to catch me, an embrace that held me with honor and grace, as I crashed over and over again…

In my deepest grief, my most paralyzing fear, my worst choices; in the midst of tragedy and despair, I have never faced any of it alone. There have been hands that have never left me, hands that have held me and rescued me, hands that offered affection that didn’t hurt, and hope in the midst of suffering. These hands are the same hands that endured the twin spikes of violence and pain, that absorbed the full weight of every hurt I’ve ever felt and every hurt I’ve ever caused. Sometimes these hands are a sensed presence–I can feel them even when my eyes can’t see. And sometimes these hands appear through the very real, tangible experience of another person. Arms that have held me tightly and securely until the sobbing subsided, hands that have tenderly held my face as memories of pain moved through my consciousness. Hands that have held mine in prayer, promising presence in the waiting, and arms that have literally held me upright as the crushing weight of loss and grief pressed down into me.

All of these experiences connect my lived reality to the stories we’ve been reading. Jesus, as he walked the earth, loved people through touch. His touch brought comfort, peace, presence, and often healing. His touch was an expression of his love, his with-ness. His touch–whether it comes supernaturally, or through the hands of another who’s willing to be his vessel–is a promise of his perfect goodness today, to us, also. He is perfectly good even when our circumstances are anything but. There’s no way to explain the why questions around who gets “healed” and who doesn’t. There’s no neat and tidy way for me to tell you that he really is all that I’m claiming he is, a way to prove that he is with you right now–no matter where you are–in the very same way.

All I can offer is my own experience with the one who’s never left me alone, the one whose hands are never far from my reach. All I can offer is what the disciples in the boat offered–my story of being saved in the midst of crashing waves; what the man in the tombs offered–my own story of mercy that freed me; what the woman who touched him offered–my story of hearing him call me “daughter” and make space for the story of my life; what the little girl offered–my story of being brought back to life, of finding freedom from the grave clothes that threatened to end me. I can’t prove the presence of Jesus to you–but I can tell you my story.

I hope you can share similar stories, stories of his with-ness during the seasons of your life. Maybe you don’t yet recognize his touch, his presence, but I promise you he’s there. He always has been and he always will be. What if you risked? What if you reached out and found that there’s a hand already reaching back, waiting to draw you into his kindness, his love, his perfect goodness? As Luanne wrote above, this perfect Love is inviting all of us to enter in–may we all have the courage to say yes to his invitation.

–Laura

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